


Providence

by BacktoBefore



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: College AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BacktoBefore/pseuds/BacktoBefore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka Bering left home and went halfway across the country to redefine herself and begin her life with a new confidence. But, her roommate, the most confident woman who has ever lived, isn't gong to make it very easy. </p>
<p>This story will span a year or more at university and is centered around, not only Bering/Wells, but also their familial relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The reference to Lady Cordelia is from "Anne of Green Gables."
> 
> Also, this is the first time I'm writing in the fan-fiction setting... so notes are appreciated. And be gentle?

“My name’s Helena, and everybody likes me.”

That sentence kept playing in Myka’s head. What kind of person actually says something like that? Of course, Myka _did_ seem to be the only person not in on the joke. But seriously, what IS that?

It had been the first meeting of the 19th Century Literature Book Club that her new friend, Steve, had absolutely had to drag her to. It’s not that she didn’t like 19th Century Literature, she had almost chosen to major in Classics, but still, she couldn’t believe she was actually sitting in a club meeting at all. There had been such an overwhelming number of tables set up at the Involvement Fair, that she had decided to, well, not get involved. But Steve was already pretty good at convincing her to do things.

Steve lived in her hall and they had met as soon as Myka arrived at her dorm on the campus of Case Western Reserve. She and her parents had driven cross-country to get there, and by the time she stepped out of the van, it was obvious to anyone watching, well, at least to Steve, that she needed help. Nothing like days of driving in a van full of guilt and familial obligation to remind Myka why she had chosen a school so far away from home.

Steve approached the van, locking eyes with Myka, and stuck out his hand.

“Hi. I’m Steve.... Do you want some help?”

Something about his calm demeanor and honest eyes put Myka at ease and she shook his hand and just barely nodded her head, affirming that, yes, she definitely wanted some help. Warren Bering slammed the driver door shut, muttering to himself about gas prices and schools in Colorado as he walked around to join his daughter.

“Great. And…” A pause. Room for Myka to speak, but she had no idea what he was looking for her to say, so she stared at him, mouth agape. “…What’s your name?”

Mortified. “Oh. Oh gosh, I’m sorry, yeah, hi, I’m Myka. Myka Bering.” She stuck out her hand again, even though they had already shaken hands once and, as she realized that, and pulled it back, he went to reciprocate. Double mortified. He finally caught her hand again and she stopped moving.

“Myka. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled genuinely as he clasped her hand in both of his.

Something about Steve made him feel like a kindred spirit to Myka. But she wasn’t sure what it was, so she gave him a tentative grin and let it pass.

“Hey, HEY, heeey! JINKSY!” A brash young man carrying a football approached the small clump. He reminded Myka of a dog she had had when she was younger, all energy and playfulness. He was wearing a wrestling t-shirt, athletic shorts, and sneakers. He catapulted himself at Steve. “Some of the guys and I are gonna get our touch-football on, you wanna come?” He posed as the Heisman trophy and tried to hold it as he waited for Steve’s reply, smiling up at him.

Steve looked at Myka peripherally. She tried to hide her disappointment, looking down and crossing her arms. Generally, if someone was asked to hang out with the popular jock or her, popular jock won out. She didn’t mind, that was life. Just as she began to tell him that it was alright and he should go play, Steve cut her off.

“No thanks Pete, but hey, this is Myka. She’s moving in today and… wait, where do you live?”

“Oh…” Myka pulled a file folder marked “Housing” out of her backpack from the car. “I’m supposed to be moving into Hitchcock House, Room 214.”  
  
“No way! We’re room 210! Dorm buddies!” Pete had a huge grin across his face and started bouncing on the balls of his feet. Warren obviously hadn’t realized that Myka would be living in a co-ed space and began to look agitated, both at the situation and at Pete’s excitement, but before he could tear into Myka, Pete pushes between the two of them, “Go get your key, let’s get your stuff inside!”

“Pete… Your game?” Steve grinned toward Myka and winked.

“Nah, man. Myka’s our new dorm buddy. Dorm buddies trump football buddies.” Jumping out of the van with boxes under his arm, Pete raised his left fist in triumph, “To the second floor!”

\---------------------

By the time all of Myka’s boxes and bags had been carried upstairs, she was feeling a lot less anxious about her decision to come here. Pete and Steve had told her all about themselves. Well, Pete had told her all about _both_ of them while Steve listened and added a few things here or there. They each had one sister, just like Myka, and were both majoring in political science. They had met when Steve was visiting Case as a senior and Pete had been tagging along on the tour while he waited for his mom, who worked at the school. It was a big part of the reason he was attending.

“College is expensive… you know.” Myka did know. She had received a full tuition scholarship, but without it, there was no way she could have come here. And she had started working in her father’s bookstore and delivering newspapers as soon as she was old enough, so she had saved up a little bit of money as well. She had no intention of asking her father for anything. Even if he offered, she would refuse. But he wouldn’t offer. He never did.

Steve and Pete sat talking in her room, taking books out of her boxes and lining them on an already half-full bookshelf, while Myka and her mom hung up her clothes in the closet. Warren had gone to the lounge to find something to watch on tv. Based on the bookshelf and the clothes in the other half of the closet, it was obvious that her roommate had moved in, but the two girls hadn’t had any correspondence. All she knew was that her name was Helena, she didn’t have a Facebook, and she was an international student. She tried to glean any information about the girl from her possessions, but there was barely anything there for Myka to investigate. She approached the bookshelf to see if, maybe, Helena’s literary predilection would give her some clues.

“Steve. Have you _seen_ Myka’s roommate? She is… pardon the term ladies, but she’s bangin.”

“She’s not really my type, Pete.”

“Oh, right, sorry dude. I forget. Maybe you and Myka can talk about all the hot guys on the floor while I drool over her roommate.”

Steve chuckled, but Myka stopped perusing the books and froze almost completely, only moving enough to see how her mom reacted to this new information. Jeannie did a quick double take, but moved back to the clothes in the closet, seemingly pretending not to hear. Well, if she wasn’t going to say anything, then neither was Myka. But maybe her new friend could help open up that discussion with her parents some time in the future.

\------------------------

Myka spent that night in a hotel with her parents and saw them on their way the next day. She was thankful that they weren’t looking to stay for very long. The freshmen had a whole list of orientation presentations and meetings to attend over the coming days. She didn’t need the added stress of making sure that her parents were being entertained as well.

“Make sure that you eat enough. Call me if you need anything. Or if you don’t need anything. I’ll miss you.” Myka rolled her eyes in embarrassment, but hugged her mom tightly, appreciating the words. “I’ll miss you too, Mom. I promise I’ll call.”

Jeannie turned away and got in the passenger seat. Myka could see she was trying to hold back tears, and for a moment regretted her decision to be so far away from the woman. She turned to her dad and, as ever, he had a scowl on his face. And _there’s_ the reason she made her decision the way she did.

“See you at Thanksgiving, kid?”

“Yeah, Dad.” She didn’t intend to go home for Thanksgiving, but they would talk about that later. When there were more miles between them.

He hugged her gruffly and barely whispered the words, “Love you.” as he walked around the back end of the van and pulled away from the dorm.

“MYKES!” Myka heard someone yelling from the second story of the dorm, but ignored it, not assuming that the person was calling her. “Mykaaaaaaa!” Okay, that nuisance _was_ for her. She turned toward the building and darted her eyes around, making sure no one noticed that that racket was aimed at her. Pete had his entire upper-body thrown out the window and was waving at her wildly. “Hey, Mykes, we’re going to the involvement fair in a minute, you wanna come?”

Mykes. That was… new. She hadn’t ever had a nickname before. She… liked it.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll wait for you down here!”

Pete disappeared from the window and Steve shot her a quick grin before he shut the window for Pete.

\-----------------

As soon as they walked into the Thwing Center, Myka’s senses were overwhelmed. Tables with poster boards egregiously decorated with neon paint and glitter, organization leaders trying to yell over each other to get someone, _anyone’s_ attention, pamphlets and free water bottles being shoved in her face, and the smells, _ohhhh_ the smells. Sweaty eighteen-year-old boys, cologned eighteen-year-old boys, and about five different types of food being given away in a twenty-food radius did not mix well.

She was psyching herself up to enter the deluge, when Pete shook her right arm and said, “Hey, Mykes, there’s your roommate!”

….

Wow.

But, wow.

Pete was right, she _was_ bangin. In an obvious sort of way.

_“Her hair is of midnight darkness and her skin is a clear ivory pallor.”_

“Oh my god,” Myka thought to herself. “She is the _real_ Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald. There isn’t supposed to be a _real_ Lady Cordelia, that’s the whole point! It’s impossible to be that… perfect.”

But somehow, Helena seemed to be. And she was making this entire room of chaos seem still. Myka followed her with her eyes as Helena walked from table to table, generally ignoring the people talking at her and occasionally picking up a pamphlet to read to herself before she set it back down and moved on.

“Earth to Myka.”

Myka was startled by Steve’s voice and looked in front of her. Both of the guys were staring at her, complete amusement on their faces. How long had she been staring? Had they been calling her for a while?

“See? I TOLD you she was bangin!”

Myka rolled her eyes and pretended not to be phased, but she was. She was supposed to live with this girl? Fantastic. She had left Colorado, partially to be out of Tracy’s shadow, and she was _already_ finding herself back in the center of an even bigger shadow.

“She’s alright, Pete.” She needed to move onto something else. “And stop calling her ‘bangin.’ It’s sexist.”

“Oh jeeeeez, thanks MOM.”

Myka grinned in response as Pete rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome.” She stepped forward and locked arms with both of her new friends. “Now. Let’s explore.”  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Myka is a huge pile of awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no Thanksgiving plans, so this has come out of that.
> 
> Again, this is all very new to me, so let me know your thoughts. 
> 
> Thanks folks!

Pete had abandoned Myka at the mere suggestion from Steve that they check out the 19th Century Literature Book Club. She had intended to follow, but he maneuvered through the crowd so quickly that she lost him.

Myka had balked at Steve’s suggestion because, first off, that was an _awful_ name for an organization. Descriptive, sure. But, in actuality, it was just long and boring. Also, when she read, it was for herself, she didn’t want to share it. She would go searching online for other people’s opinions - usually articles, peer reviews, even sometimes (god forbid), Amazon. But she didn’t actually want to have to talk about her opinions. They were private. No amount of whining, however, was going to convince Steve.

“The meeting’s downstairs in like five minutes. It literally could not be any easier to go.”

Myka crinkled her nose in protest, “Steve, I don’t even really like books.”

“You’re lying.”

“What? I… what? No I’m not.”

Silence.

“How could you tell?”

“Because I’m a human lie-detector.”

“Oh, that’s… useful… wait, really? Is that a real thing?”

Steve ignored her question. “But mostly, it’s because I carried your books into your dorm room. I suggest that if you don’t like reading you stop carrying around such huge volumes. Especially multiple copies of the _same book._ ”

Myka’s brain told her to be quiet if she ever had the hope of getting out of this, but the words flew out of her mouth before she could really think about it. “They’re different translations!”

And at that, he grabbed her wrist and made his way toward the stairs while she went into a detailed explanation of why she intended to read _Anna Karenina_ in Russian because she had yet to find an English translation that did anything for her.

___________________

The meeting had already begun and the circle of about ten or so students all turned their heads when Myka kicked the garbage can that was stupidly placed right in front of the doorway.

She looked down, color rushing to her chest, and muttered “Sorry,” while Steve pulled two chairs for them from the wall and everyone made room in the circle. Myka kept her eyes cast down, resting her elbows on her knees, and her chin in the palm of her hands.

The room was thick with silence and it seemed that everyone was doing their own version of “I don’t actually want to be here.”

The faculty advisor, a man who’s clothing and unkempt hair (and those eyebrows!) made him look like he had wandered in here on accident, barely gave a passing glance to Myka and continued on. “Where were we?”

“I do believe it’s my turn.”

Myka’s ears perked up. Who was British? She raised her eyes toward the voice and it all came together. Of course. Of _course_ Helena, the seemingly perfect-looking girl had to have the seemingly perfect-sounding accent. And when Myka actually _looked_ at her (because she hadn’t seen much other than her face before), she noticed that she also had the seemingly perfect attire and attitude of “I didn’t actually try this morning, but don’t I look fabulous?”

She hadn’t yet met the girl, officially, but everything about her just seemed… right. Myka wasn’t sure why this made her seethe, but it did.  

Helena uncrossed her legs, her _slim, toned_ legs, of course, Myka thought, and continued.

“Well, let’s see, alright… My name's Helena and everybody likes me.”

Everyone in the room looked back at her agog. Now Myka was truly seething and she sat up tall. “Everybody LIKES you? Who says that?!” she thought to herself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we were supposed to say something that isn’t obvious? Well then that won’t do. Obviously I’m completely lovable.” Helena rolled her eyes and threw a genuine laugh to the room, which immediately lightened the air. Her self-aggrandizing joke seemed to put everyone in the circle at ease. Except for Myka. She couldn’t understand why even _Steve_ was chuckling with Helena. Who did this girl think she was?

“But actually, I’m Helena and I’m a cognitive science major. Oh, and I haven’t met my roommate yet, so if anyone else does, tell her the thing about me being lovable? I am actually horrid to live with, but if strangers keep telling her I’m fantastic, maybe I’ll win her over.”

And with that, Helena leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and owned the room.

Myka was almost certain she saw Helena dart her eyes toward her, but she wasn’t going to dignify her with a response.

She had been thinking so intently about all of the things that she wanted to tell Steve about Helena after the meeting that, when the circle got to her, Myka had nothing to say.

“Uh… hi… I’m Myka and… I’m her roommate, so… don’t worry about telling me she’s fantastic… cause I heard it myself… Ha!” Myka tried to land her “joke” as Helena had, but was about as far from successful as possible. Even her laugh had come out more like a bray.  

In response to Myka’s attempt, most people either squirmed in their chairs or looked away. Steve threw her a chuckle out of pity, but a pity laugh is obvious to everyone. Even Professor Nielson (who has introduced himself and said the thing that nobody knew about him was that he made the best oatmeal scotchie this side of the Mississippi) grimaced and shook his head. Myka began to try to backpedal, crossing her arms and starting over. “Uh, uh… but I actually, um…” Further silence followed while Myka sat with her mouth open trying to find words. Any words.

And then, Helena picked up right where she left off, standing and thrusting her hand across the circle.

“Well, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you Myka. And I apologize in advance. Do forgive me.”

Myka, still with her mouth open, took Helena’s hand; her soft, but strong, delicate, but sturdy, hand. And she shook it meekly.

“Right…”

Helena gave Myka a sincere smile as she sat back down.

Steve introduced himself to try to get the attention away from Myka and she slumped in her chair, casting her eyes back down and checking her phone for the time. Please, PLEASE let this fresh hell be over soon.

\---------------------

“OH MY GOD, MYKES.”

“Shut up! It was fine! I was fine! … Just shut up!”

Myka punched Pete in the shoulder as he threw popcorn at her.

“Did you just lose your mind?!”

“I don’t know, Pete, just let it go!” Myka’s voice was doing that thing that it does when she gets worked up. It was tightening and going up in pitch and volume and she was struggling to keep a hold of herself.

“And when she laughed? Oh my god, Pete, when she laughed at her own _non_ -joke… I had to try so hard not to fall out of my chair.” Steve was doubled over in hysterics, enjoying her pain far too much.

“Well, whatever, Steve!” Her voice was just a squeal now. “Come on, what the hell was her problem, though?!” Myka sat on the couch in her most formal posture, screwing her face up to look like the Dowager Countess, and putting on the most horrendous British accent the boys had ever heard. “‘I’m Helena, and everbody likes me, and I’m a terrible roommate, isn’t that hilarious? Look how FANTASTIC I am!’” And she broke down into hysterics, braying like a donkey just as before, which sent both of the boys even _farther_ down the well.

Someone knocked on the door of their dorm room and Pete jumped over the couch to open it, taking deep breaths to gain some control as he did. It hadn’t much worked, when he opened it to see Helena, hands in pockets, looking as gleeful as they sounded. Pete had to do everything in his power not to guffaw in her face.  

“Oh! Hello! I, well this is going to sound silly, but I honestly just heard all of your laughter and thought I’d come introduce myself. I thought it’d be rather nice to know who it is that’s having all the fun. So… well.” Helena looked past Pete’s face when he didn’t respond and started to go pale. He, like the others, was questioning how much of their conversation Helena had heard.

“Hello Steve. Hello Myka. Nice to see you again. So sorry that we haven’t had any time in our room, Myka, but I’ve been out a lot since I got here. Getting acclimated…”

Steve and Myka stared back, not paying any attention and instead recounting what exactly had been said, who had said it, and how close someone would have to be to hear the actual words that were being said. By this point, the smile had slid off of Helena’s face and was replaced with a look of sincere confusion… which _had_ to mean that she hadn’t heard anything.

But maybe she had.

“Hey.” Pete regained his composure and filled the awkward silence. “Do you want to come in and join us? We’re just talking about…” Other than Myka’s complete meltdown and Helena, what _were_ they talking about?

“We were just talking about orientation. And… stuff.”

Myka just rolled her eyes and pulled her knees in tight to her chest on the couch. Nice cover, Pete.

“Oh no, that’s all right, I’m just going to go back to the room and read for a while. But I’m sure I’ll see you all soon. Good night.”

Her tone was light and she didn’t seem fazed by their strangeness, but still, Myka felt guilty about how judgmental she was being. Everyone was new, it wasn’t just her. And, already, Myka had made two great friends, so to be jealous of this girl that she knew nothing about seemed kind of silly.

And yet, the jealousy remained.

Helena gave a quick wave, stuck her hand back in her pocket, and left them, all feeling slightly ashamed at their antics.

Myka stayed in Pete and Steve’s dorm room a little while longer, but the glow of their joy had worn off pretty quickly after Helena left. By the time she was back in her room, Helena was asleep. The light was still on as she’d obviously fallen asleep reading, her book dangling from her hand over the edge of the bed. Myka appreciated that she wasn’t the only one who still read physical books instead of just reading them on an iPad.

She let a smile cross her lips as she took the book out of Helena’s hand and set it on her desk. _American Gods_ by Neil Gaiman. Well. At least the girl had good taste. Unless she hated it. Myka could look past Helena’s perfection, she could handle her being “horrid to live with,” but if she didn’t like Neil Gaiman, well. There was no turning back from that.

Myka tossed on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and flipped off the lights before she climbed into her bed that they had lofted above her own desk. She heard Helena ever-so-delicately sigh as she flipped over in bed, having been awoken.

“Good night, Myka.”

Even when half-asleep, Helena still sounded delightful.

“Good night, Helena.”

This was going to be a long year. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which college is hard and books are awesome.

Myka awoke in the morning and her first impulse was to see if her new roommate was awake yet.

She was curious if those “ _jet-black tresses”_ would be a tangled mess of morning hair. But she couldn’t tell because all that was sticking out above the blanket was the very top of Helena’s head. The shape of her body was outlined by the rise in the bedspread, and she was curled up like a puppy.

Sweet.

Myka checked the orientation schedule on her phone and saw that their first event (a lecture about alcohol safety split up by gender, sure to be tons of fun) was in a little less than an hour. She climbed down from her bed and approached Helena’s, which hadn’t been lofted, so that she could wake her.

“Helena?” She tentatively whispered her name, hoping in the moment that she was a light sleeper. When she got nothing in return, she lifted the corner of the bedspread and placed her hand on Helena’s shoulder. She noticed small freckles under her fingertips and the imperfection made her lips twitch upward for just a second.

As she began to gently shake Helena and say her name again, Helena shot up, violently sucking in air through her nostrils, as if Myka had awoken her by throwing cold water on her.

Her hair indeed still looked fantastic, but her face was marked with confusion and Myka let out a cackle, which she quickly suppressed. Helena just looked at her bleary-eyed and said nothing.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that we have our first orientation assembly in about forty-five minutes. I just didn’t want you to sleep through it.”

“Oh… yes, thank you.” Myka noted that Helena’s morning voice was about three octaves lower than her normal one. Well, alright, that was an exaggeration, but it was deep and crackly, like she had been smoking in her sleep.

“No problem.” And she walked out of the room to go get a shower.

So, sexy morning voice as well? Girl was the whole package. Myka was mentally preparing herself to be sexiled for the majority of the year. Thank god Pete and Steve had a couch in their dorm room.

\----------------------

Upon Myka’s return, Helena was already gone, but had left a post-it on the door.

_“Thanks for waking me up. –H”_

Myka had just assumed that they would walk over to the assembly together, but if Helena didn’t want to, that was fine. They were roommates, not friends.

 She picked up her phone to text one of the boys and she already had a message from Steve waiting for her.

_“Hey Myka, Pete and I are getting breakfast then heading to our assembly. Catch you later.”_

Right. Walking over by herself, it would be no big deal. She picked out her clothes (pretending that she didn’t try just a little bit to mimic Helena’s comfortable look from yesterday was a lie) and changed into her jeans, slightly over-sized sweater and the short lace-up leather boots that Tracy had probably already realized she’d stolen.

It was a start.

“Not that it matters,” Myka assured herself as she looked in the mirror. “You are an intelligent, interesting woman. People will like you. Just be yourself.” She stood a little taller, then realized there was a stain on her sweater. “Typical,” she said as she rolled her eyes, but didn’t change, and left for the assembly.

\-----------------------

Over the following weeks, Myka and Helena only saw each other on occasion. They had gotten very good at avoiding one another, though Myka wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not. She caught Helena in the room at strange intervals and, often, Helena didn’t even sleep there. Or if she did, she would get back after Myka had fallen asleep and was gone again before Myka woke up.

She would look down at Helena’s bed each morning and find herself inexplicably disappointed when the girl wasn’t there.

It barely felt like she had a roommate at all.

But Myka understood. Classes here were no joke. She, for one, was completely overwhelmed. She was studying biology with the intention to go to medical school after she graduated. So far it was all calculus, genetics, chemistry… She had yet to feel particularly passionate about her studies, but she assumed that would come in time. She was, however, tired of memorizing things and longed for the days of reading for pleasure.

She had asked her advisor if she could take an elective in the English department and was all but laughed out of the room. And every week she _intended_ to return to the book club, but the anxiety that welled up every time she thought of it kept her from going back.

Pete had started seeing a girl named Kelly (who _had_ been Myka’s genetics study buddy, but boyfriends trump study buddies). Pete was also rushing a fraternity and Steve had met a computer science major named Claudia with whom he was spending most of his free time. Myka liked them both very much and was happy that everyone was settling into their new lives, but she did, more often than not, feel pretty isolated. She had come here for change, to have a fresh start, and she found herself falling into her bad habits from home.

One Sunday evening in early October, sitting in her room alone after a weekend of studying for a test that she still didn’t feel prepared for, she called her parents.

She and her mom discussed her classes for a while, her mom filled her in on Tracy and what she was up to (she also mentioned that Tracy had thrown a ridiculous fit when she realized Myka had taken her boots… oops), and updated her on extended family gossip.

She didn’t hear the dorm room door open quietly, and, as her desk was turned away from it, also didn’t see Helena come in while she was listening to her mom animatedly telling stories.

When Myka’s dad got on the phone, his first question was about getting her a flight home for Thanksgiving.

Myka’s muscles tensed and she took a beat before she cautiously chose her words. “I’d really like to come home Dad, but I just don’t think it’s feasible. We only get a couple of days, and I have tests and papers due the next week. And with finals being so close after…”

She trailed off, not knowing what to say and desperately not wanting to get in a fight. There was tense silence on the other end of the phone before her father simply said,

“Your mother would really like to see you. But if you don’t think we’re important enough to spend your time on, then fine. Good night.”

And he hung up on her.

Her father hung up on her.

Well, at least he had said “good night.”

She had called them looking for the familiarity of home, looking for anything to hold onto, and instead, she felt even more alone than before. Before she knew it, she was openly weeping, her head down on her desk.

Shortly after she began sobbing, she felt a hand on her back, rubbing small, reassuring circles into her skin.

“Just take a deep breath, everything’s going to be fine.”

Her voice was calm and steady and Myka’s muscles began to relax as her sniffles got farther and farther apart.

Helena handed her a tissue and stood there in silence for what seemed like ages. Myka couldn’t even be bothered to be embarrassed, she was just too tired.

When she finally felt confident enough to speak, she didn’t look at Helena, but rather just relayed the facts. “Sorry… that was my dad. He’s… well, he’s my dad.”

“No need to explain, Myka. I’ve got one too.”

Myka’s eyes shot up to meet Helena’s and she saw a deep understanding in them. And her guilt came on quickly, “Yeah, no, I’m sorry. Of course, I’m not the only one with parents… I’m sorry, I’m not usually this emotional.”

Helena cut her off, “Myka, I don’t know if you realize this, but you’ve said the words ‘I’m sorry’ in every conversation we’ve ever had.”

Myka, of course, hadn’t realized that, which just made her want to apologize further, but she held it back. “Well, to be fair, we haven’t had that many conversations.”

Helena chuckled, “True.”

Helena retracted her hands that had been resting on Myka’s back and Myka found herself desperately wishing that Helena had just left them where they were. She hadn’t realized how much she missed human contact.

As Helena walked back over to her desk, she asked, “Myka, I don’t have any plans for the evening, would you just like to talk for a while?”

The tears started to well up in Myka’s eyes again. “Very much so.”

\---------------------

They spent the next several hours talking about everything. Their families, what growing up in England was like, why Helena had come to school in the United States (she too had wanted a fresh start).

But mostly, they talked about books. It was amazing. For the first time, Myka didn’t feel nerdy or strange for loving books and characters so intensely. And she actually _wanted_ to share her thoughts. Helena had all of these beautiful, simple nuggets of brilliance to add to Myka’s monologues in favor of or against this or that story and they blew Myka’s mind.

It was close to 3 a.m. and they were getting loopy. They were lying head to toe on Helena’s bed, both aware that they were going to regret the decision to stay up so late when they had to get up for class. But neither wanted to sleep. There were too many things to say.

“You know, I’ve always resented the term fiction.” Helena said, matter-of-factly.

Myka just started giggling, “Yeah, totally, that’s a thing that tons of people resent.”

“No, but really...” Helena stopped, thinking to herself and Myka sat up when it seemed that Helena wasn’t going to expound on her comment. She flipped all the way around and laid on her side, putting her head next to Helena’s on the pillow.

“Tell me.”

“Fiction implies that something’s been ‘made up.’ Just because something isn’t fact doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Myka smiled wider than she had in weeks. Her mind was racing, wanting to respond to this new idea, but even still, she was drifting off to sleep.

Her left hand was placed on top of her leg and as her eyes closed, she felt Helena put her right hand on top of it. Helena’s lips just barely brushed Myka’s hairline and she squeezed her hand, reassuringly.

“Good night, Myka.”

“Good night, Helena.”

Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a long year after all.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is fluff and some growing pains.

As had become customary when Myka woke up in the morning, Helena was gone already. But, for the first time since orientation, she left a note on the door.

_“Up early. Lots of work to be done. Hope you’re feeling better. –H”_

Her disappointment this morning was a little more explicable, and for that reason, it was even sharper. Myka had kind of assumed that part of the reason Helena made herself scarce was that, well, Myka had been nothing but cold to her the entire fall semester. It all felt so stupid now, especially after actually starting to get to know her.

She had expected to wake up to Helena still being there so that they could continue their conversation from last night. Now, knowing that wasn’t going to happen, she just really wanted to go back to sleep. It didn’t help that she also had one of those dull headaches she got when she tried to pull an all-nighter.

As she was putting on her jacket and backpack to head to her chemistry midterm, she texted Helena, a grin spread across her lips.

_“I think you’re a ninja. How do I always sleep through you getting ready in the morning?”_

She didn’t get the response until she was walking into her classroom.

_“Perhaps I am…”_

Last night was totally worth the headache and the probably middling grade she’d get on this midterm.

\---------------------------

A knock on the door startled Myka awake. She had fallen asleep in the middle of her calculus homework. Fantastic.

Helena opened it from the chair at her desk where she was working on her own assignment. She didn’t even look up from her computer when she let Steve and Claudia in. When had Helena gotten back? Honestly.

“Oh!” Steve looked startled, “Hi Helena. I haven’t seen you in here, well, actually, ever.”

“Yes, Myka seems to think I’m a ninja.” As she smiled at him, she continued typing.

“Hey,” Claudia, being swallowed by two computer bags, a posterboard, and a plastic grocery bag of supplies, stood next to Helena’s desk as Steve crossed to talk to Myka. “Are you in my robotics class?”

Helena finally stopped typing for a second and looked up, noticing the familiar face. “Oh. Yes. Hi. Sorry, just finishing a draft for a research project before I run out again, how do you know Steve?”

“Ohhh, we’re in that ‘Seminar Approach to General Education and Scholarship’ class together.” She rolled her eyes.

“I dropped my computer and got the blue screen of death, and…” Steve started.

“…And I totally saved his ass, erego, he owes me his soul and will be doing most of this project on his own.”

The only part of that conversation Myka had heard was that Helena was going out again and her stomach sank. Leave it to her to fall asleep during the only time her new friend would be around.

“Speaking of our project, though, Myka, I just wanted to know if you had seen Pete. He was supposed to meet Claudia and me to work on it and he’s not responding to my texts.”

“No, I haven’t seen him in ages… sorry.”

“I knew I should have gotten him a leash.” Steve shook his head. “Thanks anyway. If you hear from him… tell him… that I’ll probably do his homework for him, but I’ll be angry the entire time.”  

After the twosome left, Helena and Myka returned to their work for some time, their backs to one another, Helena typing furiously and Myka writing out equations absent-mindedly, wanting to break the silence, but not wanting to interrupt.

Finally, it was just too much for her.

“Helena?”

“Yes, Myka?” The typing continued.

“Why aren’t you ever here?” There was a slight pause, but still the typing continued.

“Oh, you know… places to be, things to do…”

“Sure.” Myka was going to apologize for asking, but she was doing her best to be more aware of how often she did that. And honestly, she was a little hurt. After all the things they had shared about themselves last night, she would have thought that Helena wouldn’t mind sharing whatever this was with her.

“Well… if it changes anything… I like it when you’re here.” The typing stopped.

“I like it when I’m here too.”

Myka smiled to herself and if she had been able to see Helena, she would have seen a much sadder, more tired, smile on her face.

\------------------------

Helena continued to leave a post-it every morning. It would have been nicer if she was in the room when Myka awoke, but it was better than nothing. Myka would always respond via text, and that would spur long conversations that would go on all day. Pete and Steve had made a habit of stealing her phone when they got to have meals together because, if they didn’t, she wouldn’t spend a minute paying attention to them.

The quaint nature of this new custom was entirely delightful.

 

_I left some fruit salad in the refrigerator. Eat it. You don’t eat enough. (Your mother paid me to say that) – H_

_I finished ‘American Gods.’ Is it your favorite book? It should be everyone’s favorite book. – H_

_I saw Professor Nielsen walking his dog yesterday. When I asked where he got the dog’s sweater, he said he made it himself. You’re welcome. – H_

_Left a copy of The Fault in Our Stars on your desk. Read it. I want to talk about it. – H_

 

But by far the most memorable conversation began when Helena left a post-it asking Myka her middle name. It hadn’t taken that long for her to guess it once Myka had said it started with an “O.” When she had asked the question back and Helena had told her that her middle name started with a “G,” Myka lost it.

_“Wait, wait, WAIT. Your name is H.G. WELLS? H.G. MOTHEREFFING WELLS?”_

No answer.

_“Helena, respond to me. This is vitally important.”_

No answer.

_“I’m serious, Helena. This is the most serious I’ve ever been in my life.”_

No answer.

_“HELENAAAAAAA.”_

_“Yes, Myka, those are my initials, that is my name. When I mentioned it to my parents as a child, they didn’t even realize what they had done. Thank you for laughing at my misfortune.”_

_“This is the most amazing news I’ve heard all day. Your misfortune is my GOLD MINE.”_

Myka stayed awake late that night so that when Helena returned, she could jump around in glee. Helena rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smirk while Myka talked about H.G. Wells and how amazing this news was, following Helena to the bathroom while she brushed her teeth and then back into the bedroom. She continued talking long after Helena had turned out the lights.

When she woke up in the morning, the day’s post-it was signed “ _H.G.”_

_\------------------------_

As Thanksgiving approached, Myka’s classes had become a serious problem. She was studying as much as she could, but her heart just wasn’t in it and it was harder to ignore as the end of the semester was almost upon them. She had been dodging calls from her family for almost a month now, not wanting to explain that she wasn’t sure if she had made the right decision. She had, after all, mostly chosen her major because it seemed like what her parents wanted. And if she even seemed a bit tentative about it, she had no doubt her parents would insist she transfer to a school closer to home.

Pete’s mom was an academic dean and Myka set up an appointment to meet with her before the holiday to talk about her options.

Jane Lattimer, even though she was a relatively small woman, was fierce and Myka was immediately intimidated when she walked into her office. She asked Myka a series of questions that threw her completely off-balance and the girl was struggling to come up with any answers.

After a long silence, Jane looked Myka in the eye and asked,

“What do you actually want?”

\------------------------ 

Rushing across campus and up the stairs in the blistering cold, Myka got to the boys’ door, still shivering. She knocked, hard, and shortly thereafter Pete answered. She rushed past him and threw herself on the couch.

“Hey, Mykes, what’s up?”

“I don’t know Pete. I don’t know!” The end of her sentence went up in pitch and Pete came and sat in front of her, leaning on a chest of drawers. Steve stood up from his desk and came to sit next to her on the couch. Just like her first day at school, they were completely in tune with her, and for that, she was thankful.

She saw her frantic nature reflected in their eyes and it all came flooding out of her.

“I just had a meeting with your mom, Pete, and she asked me what I wanted and I can’t tell her what I want because there’s just so much and I came to this school so that one day I could go to med school, but I don’t _want_ to go to med school! I don’t even like doctors! I mean, doctors are great, but I don’t want to BE one! I want to read books and study words and I want to be solve puzzles and…”

And she wanted to have this conversation with Steve alone, but at this point, it wasn’t really an option, because the words were coming out of her mouth.

“…and I think I like girls. Well. I _know_ I like girls. But I definitely like one girl in particular. And I don’t know what to DO!”

And with that she fell to her side and laid still.

“Is she for real?” Pete muttered to Steve, eyes wide.

“She is so for real.” Steve was smiling genuinely.

“Is it Helena?” Pete asked.

“Yes.” Myka sheepishly admitted. Not that it probably hadn’t become totally obvious by the way she reacted every time she received a text. Steve took her hand and Pete scooted forward so he was directly in front of her. She couldn’t look away.

“Nothing you just said is bad. Okay, so you don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t want to be a political scientist!”

Myka didn’t think he was understanding, “But I don’t…”

He cut her off “Then do what you want, Mykes. Change your major. You do you, girl!”

The heavy mood was lifted with Pete’s insistence of girl power.

“And listen. I’m going to try super hard not to think about you and Helena making out. And that’s the most I can promise.”

The three of them spent a little while longer catching up before Myka went back to her room. They both gave her giant hugs as she left.

As she stood in the hallway alone, she felt like running back into the room she had just left. She couldn’t go back to her room. What if Helena was there? If she was being honest, when she had admitted her feelings to Pete and Steve, it was the first time she had admitted them to herself as well.

She had never been a dater. She had gone on dates with a boy named Sam whose mom was friends with her mom, but it wasn’t serious. More to get her parents to stop worrying about her lack of a social life. Nobody, except for Tracy, knew that they had never even kissed. That’s right. She had gotten all the way to college without kissing someone.

Which had never weighed on her until today.

She began to open the door to her room, alternately praying that Helena would and wouldn’t be there, a tumult in her own head. But before she could get the door open completely, she heard Helena having a tense conversation on the phone, much like the ones she had heard between Myka and her father. She stood frozen with the door half-open.

“Yes Charles, I’m aware of the situation, and I’m honestly doing the best that I can, I’ve _been_ doing the best that I can and I can’t do anymore, so if it’s not enough then you can tell him…”

Myka decided to use the break in Helena’s speech to enter the room properly. She didn’t want it to seem like she had been eavesdropping. Which is kind of what she had been doing. Helena was standing in the middle of the room and turned when her roommate entered, looking embarrassed.

Myka shook her head, assuring Helena that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. When Myka held out her hand, Helena took it gladly.

“Alright Charles, I’ll… I’ll look into it. Goodbye.”

The girls continued to stand silently, Myka rubbing the space between thumb and forefinger on Helena’s hand. Helena leaned her head onto Myka’s shoulder, and just barely whispered “I’m so tired.”

Myka took charge. “Come on then, let’s get you in bed.” Helena slumped onto the comforter while Myka picked out pajamas for her. Helena did the changing herself, of course. Now was hardly the time for Myka to bring up that, yes, in fact, some day she’d like to do the undressing.    

After Helena was tucked in, Myka asked, “Is there anything else you need? Can I do anything?”

“Aside from making my family a little less crazed?”

“Yes,” Myka nodded seriously, “Aside from that.”

“Could you maybe just...”

Helena furrowed her brow and looked at Myka, yearning for something, but being too embarrassed to say it.

Myka took off her jackets and her shoes, threw them on the floor and told Helena to scoot over, so she could lay next to her. Helena turned on her side so Myka could hold her. When she grabbed Myka’s hand and held it near her face, Myka felt tears sliding down her cheek.

“Just take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine.”

And they took those deep breaths in sync with one another until they both fell asleep.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is just the girls and many things are said. 
> 
> Also the Cleveland Museum of Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The painting that Helena talks about can be found here: http://www.clevelandart.org/art/1992.96

And here was the moment Myka was dreading. She woke up rather groggily and saw nothing in front of her but a wall. Helena had had to _climb over her_ to leave and still she hadn’t woken.

Myka reached behind herself to her phone sitting on Helena’s desk – 7:08 in the morning on a Saturday and Helena was already gone.

She tilted her head to see what note would be left this morning, but there was nothing on the door. To say that she was disappointed was entirely too mild. She was… devastated.

Myka flipped back over and sighed. She could at least try to get some more sleep before she got to her to-do list for classes. After she had closed her eyes again, she heard the door handle twist slowly. It was all silence until the comforter was pulled back and Helena slid lightly and delicately behind her, without touching her at all. Myka had actually been awake for all of this and still… ninja-like skills.

But, wait. More important than that… Helena was back! Finally computing that minute detail, Myka spun around and sat up, almost hitting Helena in the face in her excitement.

Helena dodged her head out of the way and looked back at Myka in shock. “Did I wake you?”

Myka’s face was overtaken by an enormous smile. “You’re… here! I woke up before you left!” The girl was immensely proud of herself and vowed that today was going to be an excellent day.

“Actually, I’m not leaving, I just had to make a few phone calls. You see, I’m very sick this morning, and it’s not a hangover, and if anyone really wants me to go into the details, I can, but they’re not very pretty.” Helena had her chin in her palm and was looking up at Myka, grinning.

“I’d like to say I’m disappointed that you lied,” both girls rolled their eyes for different reasons, “but I’m just more excited that you’re here.” Myka nodded her head and cast her eyes down.

“Hm… You know… I seem to recall a fresh-faced, new collegiate co-ed from orientation weekend, who looked startlingly like you, not being too thrilled at my existence.” Helena continued to grin.

Myka shot her head up and her eyes widened in horror. The blush rose up her chest and it was like the beginning of the year all over again. She was stammering excuses, but the words were neither coherent nor eloquent.

“Myka. It’s alright,” Helena grabbed one of her hands, “I’m not much phased by people. And I knew you’d come around. After all, everybody likes me.” Helena actually _winked_ at Myka and rolled off the bed.  She stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of the floor, turned toward Myka who was still under the comforter, her mind racing, looking for some way to justify her actions from earlier in the fall.

“So. Are we up for the day? Because if we are, we should go do something.” Helena grabbed a towel from the back of the door and opened it to head to the bathroom. She stuck her head back in the room right before the door shut. “But if we see anyone I know, tell them you’re taking me to hospital.”

\---------------

The girls decided to walk over to the Cleveland Museum of Art as neither of them had yet to visit and it was so close to the school. Also, it was free. Myka had considered inviting the others, but something about today’s tone felt more private. Last night was more than just the two of them sleeping in the same bed. It was more intimate than before. And, if nothing else, they were probably going to have to unpack those feelings soon. Also, when Myka had brought up Pete’s name, they firmly agreed that he would probably spend more time giggling at the nudes than anything else. So, it was settled. They would go alone.

They had breakfast in the union and Myka was a little startled to realize that they had never actually had a meal together before. Helena ate all of her food with a fork and knife, including her banana, which Myka found completely adorable. But what _didn’t_ she find adorable at this point?

They walked around campus for a while before the museum opened. It was a surprisingly mild day for November in Ohio, which is to say it was still below freezing, but the wind was calm. Campus was relatively quiet, presumably most people were not yet awake. They each had their hands in their pockets, and kept in step with one another, taking in the surroundings.

“So, who exactly did you have to call this morning to join me in this cultural excursion?” Myka was intensely curious about this. Helena was _always_ out somewhere and she had shared very little about what she was up to. Myka had always assumed that it was work for her classes.

“Oh… let’s see…”

Myka could sense Helena’s hesitation and cut her off, “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

“No, Myka, I do feel like I owe you some explanation.” Myka took in Helena’s profile. Her shoulders were sagging more than usual, and her brow was worried, but she was very matter-of-fact about everything.

“I called Professor Frederic, who I do office work for on Saturdays, which she lets me do as she knows that I’ve exhausted my work study. I called my manager at the Thwing Center and then I called and left a message in the IT office to tell them I wouldn’t be coming in either.”

Myka took a moment to reflect on that.

“So you work three jobs?”

“On top of what I’m expected to do in the cognitive science lab as part of my fellowship, yes. Oh, sometimes I also babysit. But at least there, once the children fall asleep I can get some homework done.”

“Oh…” Myka was overwhelmed with guilt. She always felt so personally affronted when Helena wasn’t in the room, but it had nothing to do with her. Helena was just trying to keep afloat. “Is that why…” Myka wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, but she kept on, “Is that what you were arguing about on the phone?”

“Sort of, yes. That was my brother. He was mostly asking me to reconsider transferring to a school near home.”

Myka stopped walking and her breathing became shallow. Winter break was only a month away. What if Helena went home and didn’t come back? There would be no post-its, there would be no text messages… there would be no Helena. Her chest suddenly felt very hollow.

Helena turned back when she realized Myka had stopped and made eye contact. And her eyes, her usually vibrant, mischievous eyes, were so sad. Myka knew what that meant. She looked at her feet, took a deep breath, and smiled up at Helena before she continued walking.

“Well, you have to do what you have to do, right?”

 “Yes, Myka,” Helena’s words were firm and reassuring, “Yes I do. Which is why I have absolutely no intention of returning home. That will, of course, be an uncomfortable conversation, but I won’t do it.” She shook her head to emphasize it.

Myka tried to hide her smile. Regardless of whether Helena chose to stay or not, the girl was still obviously in distress, and it was inappropriate. But she couldn’t contain her happiness that Helena might stay with her.

“My father…. Well, he hasn’t been well for a long time.”

Wait, what? Myka took Helena’s hand and stopped them again.

“Helena, if your dad’s sick, you have to be with him.” Regardless of Myka’s feelings for Helena, regardless of Myka’s experiences with her own father, she didn’t think Helena could just ignore this.

“It’s much more complicated than that. It’s better if I’m farther away.” Helena shook her head. “We love each other very much, but like you and your father, we’re not very good at communicating. It’s better if I just send money home and Charles and my mother handle it.”

Myka was shocked at the influx of information, but trying to keep that out of her voice, “So you don’t even keep any of the money?”

“Oh, I keep a bit, but there are bills. A lot of bills.”

Helena obviously wanted to change the subject and took her hand out of Myka’s to take her phone out of her pocket. “The museum should be open soon. Why don’t we head over."

Helena put her phone back in her pocket but, instead of leaving her hand in there along with it, she linked her fingers with Myka’s and kept walking.

 

\--------------------------

The mood of the day lightened considerably when they arrived at the museum. They were both surprised at how beautifully cultivated the exhibits were. Helena expressed the desire to explore the 19th and 20th century exhibits because, she said, that was where most of the art by the women would be.

They tried to analyze and speak intelligently about the paintings, but more often than not, they just stood, captivated.

At some point the girls had wandered off in different directions, so Myka was surprised when she heard Helena exclaim and was even further surprised when she pulled her into another hall to stand in front of a painting of a smiling girl. She looked at the placard describing the piece - _Future (Woman in Stockholm), 1917, Gabriele Munter._ Myka wasn’t exactly sure why Helena was so excited, but she was and she was smiling triumphantly.

“I know this one! She was a German Expressionist! She did this whole series of paintings about women in different emotional states!” Helena was practically giddy over her knowledge which made Myka giddy as well, to the point where the two of them looked like girls meeting their teenage idol. One of the older security guards chuckled when he saw their happiness, and it put an extra skip in his step for the rest of the day.

Helena continued, “She and her lover Kandinsky started this whole movement in the early 20th century called the Blue Rider which was all about use of color and she was a great artist on her own, but now basically everyone just remembers her as Kandinsky’s lover, which is bollocks.“ Helena was getting swept up in everything she wanted to say.

“How do you know all of this?” Myka was giggling and though she was trying to focus on the painting, couldn’t stop staring at Helena’s no longer “seemingly perfect” anything, but her “totally perfect” _everything_.

“Oh!” Myka’s voice made Helena jump, as if she had forgotten that they were together. “Oh, right, she’s one of my mother’s favorites. She took me to a traveling exhibit of her work when I was much younger.” Helena looked embarrassed, a sight hereto unseen by Myka.

“I didn’t mean to distract you from it, I’ve just never seen you this excited before!” In that moment, Myka wished she hadn’t said anything and that, instead, she was still watching Helena in all of her nerdy glory.

“Yes, well… I am quite fond of knowing things.” They stood silently, looking at the painting, until Myka said, “She looks happy.”

“Yes… happy about her future… It’s a nice sentiment.” And the corners of Helena’s mouth raised gently as she took Myka’s hand once more.

That was the second time today. Myka had no idea what was happening, but that was two times that Helena had initiated handholding. Myka was trying to think back on the months previous, trying to count up how often there had been any contact at all to see if there was a change or if she was just starting to notice it more now because she was aware of her wants. She couldn’t remember. She was too distracted.

 

 

They kept their hands linked for the rest of their museum perusal, except for when one of them wanted to search something about the pieces of art on their phones. As soon as their questions were answered, their fingers were entwined once more.

\-------------------------------

After they had culturally exhausted themselves, they thought it best to head back to campus to work on all of their assignments. They could only play hooky for so long. The idea of doing homework reminded Myka of the conversation she had with Mrs. Lattimer the day previous and she felt overwhelmed with real life again.

“So I had a meeting with Pete’s mom yesterday about my future here.”

They continued walking and Helena listened intently, without interrupting.

“And we talked about my major and how I’m not very happy in it.”

It felt like minutes of silence passed before Myka finally said the words.

“I’m going to change my major.”

For a few seconds Helena didn’t say anything. And then she burst into laughter which made Myka stop walking, though it didn’t make her let go of Helena’s hand. (They were seriously becoming hand-holding champs.)

“What’s so funny?” Myka was agitated.

“Well, it took you long enough!” Helena exclaimed throwing her arms wide.

“What do you mean?” Myka tried to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

“Myka, I have never once heard you say anything about science or math with any sort of excitement.” Myka saw the hint of an eyeroll from Helena and wanted to retort, but she realized that she didn't even need to think back to the past months to know that the girl was right. Still...

“But I had a plan and now I don’t have a plan! I don’t know what I’m doing!” Myka was getting worked up just thinking about it, and it made her rethink her decision. She could do this for three and a half more years. It would be fine.

“So you make a new plan! You change the rules!” Helena was grinning at her like she was both the sweetest and the most foolish thing in the world.  

They stood staring at each other for a long moment while Myka puzzled over what Helena had said. She bit at her bottom lip absent-mindedly and saw Helena’s eyes flicker down. Helena’s eyes. She remembered how sad they were earlier.

“Oh my god… Oh my god, Helena, I can’t believe I’m having a breakdown over changing my major after what you told me this morning. I’m so sorry, I don’t even…”

“Myka.” Helena’s voice was firm and there was an edge of harshness to it that Myka had never heard. It made her stomach hurt. “Do not apologize for having fears. Do not apologize for having emotions. Do not apologize for existing.”

And in the grandest statement she had ever made against apologizing for her own existence, she leaned forward and kissed Helena.

It was short and it was chaste and their lips were cold and chapped from the weather. But it was without a doubt the most gloriously alive Myka had ever felt. No wonder people did this so much in high school.

Helena smiled under her lips and Myka kept her eyes closed, just wanting to feel the smile.

“That _also_ took you long enough.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the chapter is short but the kisses are many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, but really, this is super short, but it felt like the natural place to end it and I've already begun the next chapter, so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait.

Myka all but ran back to their dorm, tugging Helena behind her. There was no point in acting restrained. Now that she knew she was allowed to kiss Helena, all she wanted to do was kiss Helena.

They passed Pete heading out of the dorm as they approached Hitchcock House.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna go pick up Kelly and we’re gonna see a movie. Steve’s bringing his new boyfriend so we can interrogate him. Wanna come?”

Myka didn’t even stop, “Can’t. Going to make out.”

“Alright, Mykes!” Pete pumped his fist a few times while Helena looked flustered, turning back and forth between the two of them while they continued to move forward.

“Wha… Myka, have you talked to Pete about us?” Helena questioned, somewhat accusatorially.

“I told him I liked you, he told me he would try not to think about us making out.” Myka’s mind was on one thing and one thing alone, and she wasn’t going to be deterred. Helena laughed and shook her head, letting out a sigh.

They climbed the stairs and then they were in their hall and at their door and in their room and Myka’s adrenaline from the running and the adrenaline from the pretty girl currently attached to her came crashing down and she did… nothing. She stood in the middle of the room and watched Helena shiver from nervous energy and the shock of the temperature change. She shook as well, but less so because of the temperature change and more so because of a new attack of crippling fear.

She needed to tell Helena, or her nerves wouldn’t go away. “Helena, I’ve never done this.”

“You’ve never made out with your roommate in your dorm room? Funnily enough, neither have I.” She grinned.

“No, Helena. I’ve never done…” She pointed at their joined hands and back and forth between their lips, assuming Helena would take her point, “I’ve never done _this_ …any of it… with anyone. Ever.”

“Oh!” Helena looked surprised, but not disappointed. Her raised eyebrows settled and she broke out into a wide grin, “Well, hopefully I’ll be a good teacher then. If…” just the slightest hesitation, “If you’d like me to… teach you, that is.”

“I think that’s become _abundantly_ clear, Helena.”

This time Helena stepped forward and Myka stood completely still without releasing her breath. Helena raised a hand and brushed a curl off of Myka’s forehead. Myka closed her eyes again. She wanted to memorize how everything felt. The pads of Helena’s fingers, cold and firm, but gentle moving over her forehead and down to her neck, pulling forward, just a bit, so that their lips met again. Longer than before, warmer than before, a tender familiarity already present. Myka put her arms around Helena’s waist and she thought of last night. How she had slept like this, how she had comforted Helena, had been her shelter.

 

She tightened her grip and Helena inhaled sharply at the newfound pressure of Myka’s lips. She didn’t need a guide to know how to do this.

\-------------

They proceeded to spend most of the rest of the day kissing and chastely exploring one another while taking homework breaks throughout. But even homework was more fun now because Helena was reading, spread out on her bed, with Myka’s head in her lap. Helena lazily scratched Myka’s head and twirled her curls around her fingers. Any time she would stop to make a note in her text, Myka would strain her head up, waiting expectantly for the next caress. It got to the point where Helena would stop just so that she could watch Myka look up at her and try to nuzzle back into her hand.

“This is going to be a problem, isn’t it?” Helena said when Myka was most insistent.

“It’s not going to be a problem if you don’t stop.” Myka raised her eyebrows and turned back to her computer, eliciting an affectionate eyeroll.

After the latest makeout session, which had left Myka aching for more, but insisting they stop so as not to move too fast, Myka gave Helena a final kiss and sat back on her knees to see the beautiful girl lying back with her eyes closed, mouth still open and lifted in a serene smile.

“Can we do this every day?” Myka asked, teasing Helena’s hand with her fingertips.

Helena sighed and opened her eyes. “Unfortunately, today was one of those glorious rarities,” for a moment Myka’s stomach twisted and the heat she had just felt turned cold. Was Helena saying that this was the only time they were going to do to this? “I have work tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, forever and always.” Helena elongated the words, stretching out the torture of the situation.

Myka moved Helena’s arm up, so that she could lay in the crook of it and put her forehead on Helena’s cheek. “What would happen if you stopped working so much?” Myka asked.

“Presumably, my mother would choose between having electricity or getting to go grocery shopping for the month.”

Myka picked her head up, “Oh my god.” This was a lot heavier than Myka had put together.

“I might be exaggerating, I’m not exactly sure anymore.” Helena put her hand over her eyes and breathed deeply. “I need to call them tomorrow.”

Myka put her arm over Helena’s torso and squeezed tightly. She shifted so that she was partially on top of Helena and uncovered her face so that they were looking one another in the eye. “I know there’s probably nothing that I can do, but if there is, I want to. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

“Myka…” Helena was going to protest.

“No, Helena.” Myka’s voice was the harsh one this time. “You’re my best friend, okay? So, when you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’ve got problems, I’ve got problems. You got it?”

Helena paused, a little alarmed at how strongly Myka felt. “… Righty-ho then.”  

Myka punctuated the sentiment with a firm kiss.

\------------------

They both prepared for bed lackadaisically, unsure of how this would work now, and not really wanting to have the discussion.

Myka put her hair up in a ponytail and Helena slid in behind her, clasping her hands together around Myka’s torso and kissing the back of her neck. She felt Helena inhale her.

“I’d like you to sleep in my bed, but if you don’t want to, I understand.”

“You do realize that I’ve slept in your bed before, right?” Myka laughed.

“Yes but this is different.”

Myka turned around, draping her arms around Helena’s neck and kissing it, taking in Helena’s faint, sweet smell. “Yes, it is. And yes, I want to.”

The two of them cuddled together, trying to ensure that every part of their bodies was touching.

“Good night, darling.”

“Good night, H.G.”

 

And they fell asleep kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Update: Hey, y'all, I totally lost the work that I did on the next chapter, which I'm bananas about because it was actually kinda lovely, so it'll be longer until it's posted. Blurg.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Myka asserts some new-found confidence.
> 
> (I added a bit at the end because I missed Helena.)

Myka woke up the same way she had fallen asleep, with the touch of Helena on her lips. She smiled into the kiss and brushed her fingers through the hair at the crown of Helena’s head.

“I have to go. I’ll see you later.” Myka’s eyes were too heavy to open, and though the smile had faded from her face, she accepted a final kiss from Helena, who added a peck to her nose as she walked away from the bed.

When Myka awoke for the second time that morning, she felt a sense of wholeness that she had not experience before. She took a deep breath, ready to do some processing.

She knew she felt more herself with Helena than she felt when she was alone. That was good.  She also knew something deeper than that. She knew that this was that ephemeral feeling that everyone was always desperate to explain. This was the whisper that people tried to hold onto without suffocating it. This was the expression of life’s greatest complexities and simplest details. This was love.

She was going to have to keep the knowledge to herself for the time being. There was no reason to overwhelm Helena with it. And she didn’t need to shout it from the rooftops, either. The knowledge that the good things like this could exist and could be a part of Myka’s life was enough.

\-----------------------

When it got late enough in the morning that Myka could assume Pete and Steve would be awake, she carried her books down the hall to have some company while she got her work done.

When Pete answered the door, he looked like hell. He pushed the door open for her to catch and barely stumbled back to his bed.

“Where’s Steve?”

“Dunno. Probably with Liam.” Pete muttered through his comforter which he had put over his face to block out the light.

“Sorry if I woke you.” Myka took her stuff over to Steve’s desk. If he wasn’t going to use it, she would.

“You didn’t. Hey, where’s the girl?”

Myka had gotten out her computer to work on some research, but was instead investigating some of her other degree options. What was the point in doing her genetics homework if she was just going to switch her major anyway? … Probably so she could keep her scholarship… but she’d do it later.

“Mykaaaa. Where’s your girl?” Pete asked more insistently this time, sticking his head over the comforter.

“Oh, she’s at work.”

“Of course.” He threw his head back down. “You wouldn’t want my company if she was available.”

“No… probably not.” Myka retorted absent-mindedly.

“So. Is she a good kisser? Because she looks like a good kisser?” Now he was actually sitting up.

“She is, Pete.” Myka was currently making a spreadsheet and compiling a list of all of her possible study options. Classics, history, world literature was only available through the classics department, so she would have to write that down, _Russian!_ She could finally read _Anna Karenina_ the way Tolstoy intended!

“What happens if you guys decide that you don’t want to make out anymore and you’re still living in the same room?” Myka hadn’t even noticed Pete move to the couch and get himself a bowl of cereal while turning on the television. But she noticed when he asked that question.

“I don’t know, Pete, but I’m not worried about it.” And she wasn’t.

“But people break up, Mykes. And you’d still be _living_ together.”

“Not everyone breaks up, Pete. I mean you and Kelly…”

“Broke up.” Pete stated flatly, going back to his cartoons.

“What?” This finally got enough of Myka’s attention that she joined him on the couch.

“But you were going to a movie last night. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I think she freaked out because I told her I loved her.” Well, if that wasn’t the perfect example of why Myka needed to keep her feelings about Helena to herself… maybe now wasn’t the time to think about her own happiness.

“I’m sorry, Pete.” was all Myka could think of to say. She didn’t know how to handle breakups. She’d never gone through one, she’d never had a friend go through one, all of this dating stuff was foreign to her.

“It’s alright… I mean, the thing is, though, I don’t even _know_ if I loved her. It just felt like the right time to say it.” Myka’s eyebrows scrunched together, but she quickly realized that that wasn’t the most compassionate way to react, so she did her best to restore to a blank slate.

“Anyway…” Pete went back to eating his cereal and watching television.

“Hey Pete, you know I’m just down the hallway if you want someone to hang out with, right?” Myka was at a loss. How do guys do this? Should she fist bump him or try to find him a date or leave him alone completely… or what?

“Yeah,” Pete smiled genuinely at her, “Thanks, Mykes.”

She gave his leg a reaffirming squeeze, then went back to the desk to work, but before she began, she stopped herself to notice her own feeling of total calm. She was shocked that she hadn’t started to unspool the moment that Pete asked what she and Helena would do if they, for lack of a better term, “broke up.” She would usually have gone through a long list of how that could play out badly. And even now, trying to think about it, she couldn’t picture it happening. And she was content.

\------------------------

Though Helena arrived late that night, Myka waited up for her and they got ready for bed together.

They shared the events of their days with one another. Helena said she wasn’t surprised that Pete and Kelly had broken up, but that she was sorry.  She also said that she had talked to her mother who had supported her decision to stay at school, though sounded very sad to do it. Helena didn’t go into anything further about her family, and Myka didn’t push it. Myka also let Helena know that they were invited for Thanksgiving, which was only a few weeks away, at Mrs. Lattimer’s house.

“Darling, you do know that’s an American holiday, right? I thought this accent of mine did give me away…” Helena smirked as she pulled back the covers for Myka to get in first.

“I do know that, but I assume that you’re going to be here and I’m not going to leave you at the dorm just because you don’t celebrate tryptophan and football and all things American.”

“I’m actually working…” Helena trailed off and Myka tried not to be disappointed, but it was hard not to be.

“But it’s a holiday.” Myka protested.

“Yes, which means I can make even more money babysitting children whose parents don’t want to be chasing their toddlers around while they have the fine china out.” Helena climbed into the bed smiling and straddled Myka’s waist, assuming they would pick up where they left off.

Myka wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to the next question, especially because the angle of Helena’s torso left her in a rather revealing spot. “Will you have any days off?”

Helena was _certain_ she didn’t want to answer the question. “I won’t… I’m sorry, Myka.”

There was a tense silence. Myka wasn’t angry at Helena, she was just sad. Though Myka had looked forward to more possibility of physical exploration tonight, she wasn’t quite in the mood any longer and Helena could tell, so she laid down next to Myka and let her cuddle into the crook of her arm.

“You know wherever you are is the place I want to be, right?” Helena whispered it into Myka’s curls before kissing her forehead.

Myka answered by kissing Helena’s lips, then her nose, as Helena had that morning, and nodding her head “yes.” Even still, the ache was there.

\---------------------

First thing Monday morning, Myka appeared at Professor Nielsen’s door with a plan. She knocked and heard a gruff “Come in!” behind the closed door. She entered the postage-stamp of an office, walls lined with bookshelves, all stuffed with layers of books. When the shelves had become too full to hold anymore, the teacher had started making piles that leaned against every piece of furniture. He was scribbling away at something behind his desk and Myka cleared her throat to get his attention.

He finally gazed up and a knowing look appeared on his face. “I remember you…” he squinted his eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses, “I remember a particularly unfunny joke…” Myka didn’t even flinch when he mentioned their first encounter. She expected it. He continued looking at her quizzically, about to speak. “… Is it Mika?”

“It’s Myka. Hello Professor Nielsen, it’s nice to officially meet you.” She stuck out her hand for him to shake, which he did quickly, before returning to his work.

“I don’t have office hours right now.”

“I know that, sir, but I needed to come speak to you today. I want to change my major and you’re the chair of the department… I want to study Classics, I want to study with _you_. Do research. Your publications on literary symbolism of the Renaissance are beyond fascinating.” Once Myka had started exploring his work, she had gotten swept up in it and had even printed some off to highlight her favorite passages, which she began to take out of her file folder when Professor Nielsen stopped her.

“Current classics majors have already scheduled their classes, everything is full for next semester. Finish your pre-requisites and maybe you can look into it for next fall.” He never even looked up from his paper.

“Sir, I understand that, but I don’t think that one more person…”

“I’m not going to make an exception for you, Ms…”

“Bering.” Myka bit back.

“Ms. Bering. If I make an exception for you, I have to make an exception for someone else.”

“No, sir, I don’t think you do. I think you make an exception for me because I’m going to be worth your time.” Myka stared at Professor Nielsen who peered back at her through slitted eyes.

“Ms. Bering, with all due respect, exactly _what_ makes you think that you are more worthwhile than any other student at this school?”

“I didn’t say I’m _more_ worthwhile than anyone else at this school, sir. I’m worth your time because I’m smart, I’m capable, I work hard, and I don’t apologize for what I want.” Myka was lying through her teeth on that one, but Professor Nielsen didn’t have to know that. And she had a feeling that the more she practiced it, the more truthful it would become. “Maybe that could also be said for other students, but I don’t see any of them standing in your office telling you that.”

Professor Nielsen took a breath in to retort, but came up with nothing.

Myka placed her file folder on Professor Nielsen’s desk. “I’ve taken the liberty of making some notes on your paper. I think you missed some big opportunities. My contact information is on the inside of the file folder. I look forward to hearing from you.” And with that Myka walked out of his office.

Professor Nielsen was intrigued. He opened and started scanning the articles. They were scattered with notes and questions to examine including more than one about the different between fact and truth.  

By the time Myka got back to her dorm room, there was an e-mail from Professor Nielsen waiting for her. 

\---------------------

“Guess what I did this morning?” Myka took Helena’s bag from her as soon as she came in the dorm and handed her the dinner she had picked up from the dining hall.

Helena gave Myka a kiss on the cheek in thanks and sat down to eat while she wrote out some flash cards.

“What did you do this morning?”

“Guess!”

“Myka, there is absolutely no way I can guess what you did, nor do I intend to, but I am very interested, so please tell me.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re no fun?” Myka questioned while she danced around Helena’s chair.

“Pete has mentioned it a few times, yes.”

Myka couldn’t keep the grin off of her face. “Alright, well. I went down to Professor Nielsen’s office and I asserted so much self-confidence that he’s letting me enroll in classes in his department and is going to help me set everything up so I still graduate on time!”

Helena stopped all of her work and looked up at Myka, face beaming. “That’s wonderful, darling!” She gave Myka an enormous hug.

“You would have been so proud.”

Helena cupped her face, “I _am_ so proud!” She stopped for the first second since she got back to really notice the change apparent in Myka.

“Now, Helena, I am going to assert some more of my self-confidence and insist that you put away your work for the time being because I want to finally get some second base action.”

Helena looked quizzically back at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Right. England. What’s the equivalent to second base in cricket?” She rolled her eyes, “Never mind.”

Myka pulled Helena into her tightly as she pressed their lips together and guided her back to the bed until she could lay her down and climb on top.

“Well, this is new.” Helena had pushed herself up on her elbows and was smirking at the girl on top of her.

“I know.” Myka grinned as she leaned in to continue kissing Helena and laced one of her hands in Helena’s hair while the other lifted the edge of Helena’s shirt, fingertips grazing the skin on her lower back. Before she guided Helena all the way back, she unsnapped the clasp of her bra and Helena gasped in surprise.

When Myka moved to kiss Helena below her jawline, Helena caught her breath and panted out, “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Yes.” The aspiration of the “s” on the word tickled Helena’s neck and she giggled, causing Myka to freeze.

“Do you want me to stop?” Myka looked suddenly very concerned that she had done something wrong.

“Myka,” Helena tucked Myka’s curls behind her ears as they had begun to hide her face, “I’d like it if you never stopped.”

“Have you…” Myka looked down, “Has anyone ever done this with you before?” Helena wished that she had just kept her mouth shut instead of getting Myka all worked up.

“Once or twice,” Myka started to retract, but Helena grabbed her and kept her in place. “But it’s never gone much farther than this. I’ve never wanted it to before.”

“And you want it to now?”

Helena slipped her hand up the back of Myka’s shirt and unclasped her bra with a pinch and a smirk. “Very much so.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which... I don't even know, guys.

Over the following couple of weeks, Myka and Helena’s interactions were limited to a few times a day. Myka would bring Helena lunch every afternoon and they would eat together while Helena continued to work. And then there were the late nights, when they would catch up on each other’s days and “canoodle” as Myka had taken to calling their makeout sessions, which made Helena giggle to no end. But other than that, they rarely saw one another.

Myka understood the circumstances. She understood that there was nothing she could do to change it. She also understood that there was no end in sight and that it frustrated her to have to sit idly by while the person she loved spent the majority of her waking moments working.

When Helena wasn’t at Thanksgiving dinner at Mrs. Lattimer’s house, everyone was disappointed. Myka hadn’t been the only one to stay in Cleveland for the holiday – Steve and Claudia had both expressed a desire to stick around and thus, their little Orphans’ Thanksgiving had been born. They each cooked a part of the meal, some more successful than others, and had the chance to meet Pete’s older sister, Jeannie, who had come back for the holiday. She had been more than willing to teach each of them sign language for names they could call Pete when he was bothering them, to the chagrin of Mrs. Lattimer. The meal was delicious and everyone expressed their sincere thanks for having a family to be with on Thanksgiving. Mrs. Lattimer and Jeannie left the four of them to clean up while they went out to see a movie, a Thanksgiving tradition that Pete decided to skip this year.

The Cleveland Browns weren’t playing on the television (at the dinner table, Pete said he was thankful that he wouldn’t have to scream at the tv all day) and no one else much cared for football, so they were all lounging around the living room, chatting.

When Steve asked Myka where Helena was, she told everyone that she had to work. Claudia perked up at the mention. “Man, I have never seen that girl take a break. We have a few classes together, but I literally don’t think I’ve ever been in that building without seeing her working on something.”

Myka tried to steer away from the conversation, but it was hard not to want to talk about Helena. “She works hard. She’s got a lot to handle and she does it pretty magnificently.” Yes, she was very proud of her.

“Oh jeez, Mykes, we get it, you’re in loooooove.” Pete sing-songed the word tauntingly and Myka threw him one of the signs Jeannie had taught her. Pete pretended like she had just stabbed him in the heart and held his chest painfully.

“Yeah, but, what is she always doing? I mean, we’re first years. Isn’t the point to take the easy classes this year, have fun, and then get cracking later?” Claudia had started looking through Pete’s old video games to see if there was anything to do that wouldn’t require moving.

“Well, she has to work a lot…” Myka didn’t know how much to share, but for some reason, she felt like Helena was being attacked and that she had to defend her. “Her dad’s sick and her family needs money, so she helps them out. I think it’s pretty noble.”

“Wow… this group’s got a helluva track record with dads.” Pete sighed. They all took a moment to acknowledge the situation, but when the silence lasted a little too long, Pete jumped up from the couch. “Now, Myka, watch me proceed to kick your ass at Mario Kart.”

And he did.

\--------------------

Pete was staying at home for the night, so after Steve and Myka dropped Claudia off at her dorm, they walked the rest of the way to Hitchcock House together.

“Not that I want to pry or be nosy, but Pete might have mentioned that… thing had progressed between you and Helena.”

“Yes, they have.” Myka wasn’t sure how much of this she wanted to share yet. She was protective of it. And though she didn’t think it was fragile, it was still pretty new.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about what’s happening or how you’re feeling or any confusion you’re having, I’m happy to be your sounding board.” They walked on in silence until Myka finally responded.

“You know Steve, I don’t really think I’m confused about any of this. I’ve never really thought about Helena being a woman. I’ve just thought about her being Helena. And that’s good.”

Steve smiled back at Myka. “Yes, that is good.”

\------------------------

When they arrived back at the dorm, Steve dropped Myka off at her door and Helena was already there waiting for her. All three of them caught up for a bit and before Steve headed to his room, he turned back. “Helena, Myka told us about your dad and, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do…” Steve trailed off when he saw the looks on both of the girls’ faces. Myka, frantic, eyes wide, staring at Helena. Helena herself, forehead furrowed, lips pursed, looking at the floor.

Steve certainly was feeling emotionally giving tonight, but maybe it wasn’t the best time for that. “Well, good night.” He would let them handle this on their own. And maybe next time he would keep his mouth shut.

The girls continued to stand in silence, Myka’s eyes on Helena and Helena’s anywhere but on Myka. She didn’t understand why Helena seemed so angry, but she knew she was.

“Myka, what exactly did you tell everyone about my father?”

This needed to be handled delicately, so Myka was going to have to verbally tiptoe through her answer. “Well… Claudia asked why you’re always so busy, so I told them that you work a lot and said how great you are at handling that and when they asked more questions I said that you have to work because your dad is sick and your family needs money.” Well. That came out more like a verbal performance of “Stomp.” Great.

Helena spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Myka, I told you that in confidence. I’d prefer in the future that you keep private things private.” She finally looked at Myka and her eyes were glassy. There were tears welling up. But her eyes were also colder than Myka had ever seen them and all she felt was shame. She had let Helena down.

“Well, Helena,” Myka crossed her arms over her chest and her tone became icy as well, “I’d prefer if you actually gave me any sort of information about what it is that’s going on so I know what’s meant to be private and what’s not.” Myka wasn’t sure why she was lashing out, but she was embarrassed, and there was no way to fix this.  

“Yes. Well. I brought you some pie from the dinner where I was working. Pumpkin. It’s in the refrigerator.” and Helena walked out the door.

Myka wanted to follow her, but she could tell it wasn’t the time and Helena wasn’t going to respond well to it. So she put on her pajamas and got into Helena’s bed with the copy of “A Fault in Our Stars” that Helena had wanted her to read. She would have gone and washed up in the bathroom, but she assumed that’s where Helena was, so she would wait. She didn’t end up reading much, only picturing Helena’s disappointment in her head and it made her feel nauseous.

After about thirty minutes, Helena returned and rolled her eyes when she saw Myka reading in her bed. “Myka, I’d rather not…”

Myka cut her off without looking up from her book. “Just because you’re angry at me doesn’t mean I’m not sleeping next to you tonight. You can be angry at me, you can not want to talk to me, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Myka finally looked up after she received nothing but silence as a response. “I am truly sorry for betraying your trust. It wasn’t intentional.”

Helena turned toward the closet and began fumbling with her clothes, needing to do something with herself. Her words were soft. “I think that maybe this is getting too complicated and we should just go back to being roommates.”

Myka suddenly felt like something from the very center of her body was pulling her insides down into a hole. And the hole wasn’t violent. It was just cold. She had to fight every inclination that she had to burst into tears. So this was that other ephemeral thing. This was that shout that people tried to tune out. This was heartbreak.

She got down from the bed and approached Helena and turned her around. She still wouldn’t look her in the eye and a calm came over Myka as she cupped Helena’s face in her hands and found her eyes. “Helena, I get that you’re scared and angry, but you don’t get to make this decision on your own. You don’t get to walk out of the room without talking to me and then try to break up with me. If you want to have a conversation about this and at the end of it, you still want to go back to being just roommates, fine. But that’s it then, Helena. We break up and that’s it. I’m not gonna play any games. I will still be your friend and I will still love you, but that’s it.”

The tears had begun to fall down Helena’s face again and she tried to get out of Myka’s grasp and run out the door, but Myka pulled her back into a hug and the sobs finally released. “You’re the one who told me not to apologize for having emotions, Helena. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel things.”

Helena began to crumple, and Myka held her delicately as they both landed on the floor. They were tears streaming down Myka’s face too. But Helena’s sobs were the kind where everything came out. Her hurt and her fear. Her frustration and her sleep-deprivation. She never slowed down enough to let herself have any of these emotions. So now it was coming out all at once, and she thought that she should feel embarrassed, embarrassed to be getting snot all over Myka’s pajamas and grasping onto her like a child. But more than anything she just felt relieved. Relieved that Myka hadn’t turned away, that she had made her stay and fall apart in front of her instead of alone.

Helena cried until it felt like it was all gone, tearless sobs pulling themselves out of her every once in a while. She laid in Myka’s lap silently, without moving, as Myka stroked her head. Eventually Myka leaned down and placed a kiss on Helena’s temple. “I do love you. And my answer’s no. I don't want to 'just go back to being roommates.'”

Helena was too tired to smile, but her whole body relaxed into Myka’s. “I love you too.”

Helena knew that there still hung between them all of the things she hadn’t been able to tell Myka about her life. She just didn’t know how to explain it. Helena had heard from Myka how terrible her relationship with her father was and sympathized with her, but she wasn’t sure that Myka could understand her own relationship with her father. It was complicated, so very complicated.

But she was working to fix that. She _would_ fix that. Professor Frederic had been looking over her research, guiding her into new ideas, new ways to explore perception and action and she thought with enough time and enough work, she could bring her father back. She _had_ to bring her father back. 

“Myka…” Helena finally sat up, pressing her forehead against Myka’s, “I think there are some things I should tell you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get Helena's back story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert are also references back to the "Anne of Green Gables" series.

The accident had happened when Helena was fourteen. Up until then, Helena had had a normal childhood. Her mother, an English teacher, her father, a neurological research scientist, and her older brother Charles, a general nuisance.

She and her father had a particular bond. He was the one who had done simple science experiments with her in their basement when she was young. He was the one who had first taught her the scientific method and Euclid's proof of the infinitude of primes. He had always been strange and awkward, but loving and devoted to Helena.

The accident itself wasn’t even particularly interesting. A car had swerved to avoid a pothole, not seeing the pedestrian who had just stepped forward to hail a cab. Quick. And the father that she had known was gone. The irony of the entire incident was not lost on Helena. Her father, the man who researched and studied brains had fallen prey to his own. Other neurologists began to study him, began to study his behavioral changes, the deterioration of his memory which became worse as the months and years went on. He became reckless, spending thousands of dollars on things that they didn’t need, lashing out at his teenage children, acting coldly toward his wife, spiraling downward.

Everything that they had known had come toppling down.

While Helena was talking, Myka had leaned her up against the closet door and was sitting cross-legged in front of her, listening to the story. Helena had talked about her father for what seemed like hours, but Myka was rapt with details Helena finally felt ready to share.

“I adjusted because I had to, Myka. But I started tracking the research that the doctors were doing on my father. Are _still_ doing on my father. They keep hitting dead ends, but I just know that more can be done. I came here to study because I read about Dr. Frederic, she’s been running trials on patients with the same sort of circumstances as my dad. I know that he can return to his former self. And I’m going to be the one who does it. I’m going to be the one who fixes him.”

Helena’s eyes shone brightly with determination and Myka was trying not to show her skepticism. It wasn’t that Myka didn’t believe in Helena. She did. She thought that she was miraculous. But they were so young and the kind of thing that Helena was talking about… well, it made Myka’s head hurt even thinking about it.

Helena was looking at Myka expectantly. Now that she had finally shared, she wanted to know what she thought. But Myka was at a loss. “I’m so sorry, Helena.”

Helena stared back in shock and agitation. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, I don’t know what _to_ say, Helena. I’m trying to process. And I don’t know anything about neuroscience.”

Helena grabbed Myka’s hands suddenly, “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.” She sighed, raising herself up on her knees and hugging Myka closely. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you telling people about my father, but I hold him very close to my heart. I’d just… prefer if we kept this between us.”

“Of course, Helena. And I am sorry. I’ll try to be more conscious of your feelings in the future.” Myka looked down and kind of laughed at herself. “God, do you hear us? We are doing so much ‘ladies-who-love-ladies’ processing right now.”

“Yes, I’m not sure I know what that means, but yes…” Helena laughed as well, and her tone lifted the mood in the room. Their collective meltdown felt like it happened ages ago and, if anything, they felt more bonded than ever. It had been a rather ugly night, but not damagingly so.

Myka started to get back up to climb into bed, a much more comfortable spot for further talks, and she pulled Helena up behind her. But before she got in, she was struck with a thought and turned suddenly to look at Helena, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Oh my God, we said 'I love you.' ... You love me?”

“Yes, we did. And yes... I do. I’m sorry, has that not been obvious since the first time I shook your hand? I do apologize, I was trying to be transparent.” Helena grinned and kissed the corner of Myka’s mouth before climbing into bed and stretching out, opening her arms for Myka to join her. “Funny.” Myka said as she nestled into Helena’s chest, leaving light kisses behind as Helena put her arms around her girl.

 They were both off in their own worlds of thought when Myka interrupted their collective solitude with a question. “Helena… do you believe in providence?”

“What do you mean, darling?” Just like normal, Helena was running her fingers absently through Myka’s curls.

“I don’t necessarily mean like, divine intervention, but, the idea that things happen the way that they happen so that we’re lead to the place we’re supposed to be.” Myka felt like she was on the verge of something.

“I suppose I’ve never thought of it much.” Helena mused.

“It’s such a strange turn of events that led us to one another, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it does seem sort of random.”

“No, but that’s my point. I don’t think it is.” Myka raised herself onto her elbow and looked Helena in the eye. “It wasn’t random, it wasn’t happenstance. It was providence.”

“Like Anne and Gilbert?” Helena perked up.

A wide grin appeared on Myka’s face. “Yes, just like Anne and Gilbert. Except better because I never broke a chalkboard over your head.”

“Except worse, because, you know, my current life situation.” Helena argued.

“I don’t know Helena, Anne was an orphan.” Myka was firm in her position.

They stared at each other for a moment, Helena squinting her eyes and Myka waiting patiently for a response.

“Alright, the point goes to you, but I feel like I could have won that had I tried a little harder.”

“I doubt it.” Myka smirked.

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow, then.” Helena muttered as she placed a kiss on Myka’s lips that made her feel like, yes, in fact, every moment in her life was purposely set up to lead to _this_ moment with _this_ girl. All of the struggles that had come already and all of the struggles that would come in the future were what life handed to them, sure.

But the struggles in the past had led them to this moment, so they couldn’t be all bad. And the struggles in the future? they would have each other to brace onto for those. 

“Good night, Myka.”

“Good night, Helena.”

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you too… H.G.”

“Good God, why did I ever tell you my middle name?”

And after fits of laughter, they fell asleep. Just as they would every night. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y'all. I feel like it's possible that this is finished...? With an epilogue of course. 
> 
> When I started writing this, it was an exercise to write every day with very little direction, just an inkling of a thought. A couple things I've noticed about myself - I should probably learn the art of subtlety. Also, I should write an outline. 
> 
> The first will come in time. The second was a major oversight. It wasn't necessarily disastrous. But an oversight nonetheless.
> 
> There is more that exists in this world and I certainly have an idea of what happens next, but I'm not sure that I'm ready to write the entirety of it at this moment. What do you think? I'm not sure, so you should all leave me your thoughts. 
> 
> And yes, I realize that a lot of this is fluff, but angsty fluff, yes? Is that the best of both worlds or the worst? Hm...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see a glimpse of the first part of Myka's Christmas break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue along with the story! I'll try not to let self-doubt get in my way again.

With finals done, Myka was packing up her suitcase to take on the plane for her three-week Christmas vacation. She had hemmed and hawed for as long as she possibly could about going home, but her father had finally put his foot down and bought her a plane ticket. And she was miserable about it. Not only was she going to be away from Helena for three weeks, but Helena wasn’t even going to be able to go home to see her family for the holidays. Between the cost of a flight and her work schedule, Helena had thought it pointless. Myka had pleaded with her to come to Colorado, but they both knew that wasn’t a solid plan. At least not now. She didn’t want to think about Helena being alone on Christmas, so she had insisted, and Mrs. Lattimer had agreed, that Helena would spend Christmas day at Pete’s house. If nothing else, it would give them a chance to get to know one another better.

Since Steve had started dating Liam and Helena was never around, Pete and Myka were spending the majority of their free time together and had grown very close. So close that she had even sat down and watched the entire Star Wars trilogy in a single day with him. She had also begrudgingly agreed to not only have a lightsaber fight with him, _but she also allowed him to film it_. He owed her so hard. He had weaseled his stupid and wonderful way into her life and now Myka was determined for him to do the same to Helena.

Myka had delayed packing for as long as she could, and Pete was bound to be there to take her any minute. Helena helped her fold up her clothes in silence. Myka rolled her eyes when she saw herself in the mirror, looking pitifully forlorn. It was three weeks, not forever. But having spent every single night sleeping next to Helena for the past month, she wasn’t ready to remind herself of what it was like not to feel her there. Not to be able to nuzzle into her neck and feel Helena shiver when she did. Not to be able to hold Helena’s hand up to her lips to kiss her palm, smelling the dab of perfume on her wrist as she did.

Three weeks. Just… three weeks. Which, when Myka thought about it, was almost as long as they had been really dating in the first place and oh my gosh, how was she going to do this?

Maybe she could convince her dad to move up her returning flight date?

“I think this is just about as much as you’re going to be able to fit in here, darling.”

Snapping back to reality, Myka watched Helena straining to close the bag, bending over and pulling on the zipper desperately. Helena heard the giggle behind her and turned to look at Myka with her head upside down.

“Why is my discomfort always so amusing to you?”

“It’s not amusing, it’s adorable.” Myka leapt forward and turned her face to give Helena a kiss before she closed the bag herself. “Also? Sometimes? The view from behind is delightful.” Helena grabbed Myka to tickle her behind the knees, which Helena had found to be the easiest way to elicit Myka’s cackle.

A knock on the door meant that Pete had arrived.

“Can I open the door? Do you have clothes on? Follow-up question: If you don’t have clothes on… can I _please_ open this door?”

Helena left Myka still gasping for air on the floor and opened the door for Pete. He was grinning proudly. She rolled her eyes. “Cheeky.”

“Oh! How very British of you!” Pete ducked below Helena’s arm which was blocking his path and grabbed Myka’s bag.

“I’m gonna take this to the car, meet ya there, Mykes.” He raised his eyebrows at Helena as he left.

“That never does get old, Pete!” Helena hollered after him as he left.

The girls were without words to say, so they hugged tightly, Myka shutting her eyes, once again trying to remember every feeling of the moment.

Helena walked Myka down the hallway, their hands entwined. “I have something for you. For Christmas.”

“No, Helena, I told you not to get me anything, I don’t want you…”

“Don’t worry Myka, it didn’t cost anything. And I stole the wrapping paper from the lounge.” Helena handed her a small gift wrapped in the New York Times Sunday crossword, which had been completed. In ink.

Myka paused before she sheepishly responded. “There’s a present for you on my side of the closet. I was going to wait to give it to you until I got back… but you should open it on Christmas.”

They stopped at the front door, embraced once more, and Myka walked out.

As Myka opened the passenger side door of Pete’s car, Helena yelled out, “I’ll miss you!” and Myka threw her a kiss.

Now, _this,_ was going to be a long few weeks.

 ----------

Jeannie and Tracy were thrilled to see Myka when she got off of the plane, and she was surprised at how excited she was to see them as well. Tracy grabbed her sister’s hand as soon as she got off the plane and started talking animatedly about how Kevin Riley had asked her out, but she had said no, because she wanted to seem more aloof. Myka pretended to listen, and smiled over at her mom who returned it tenfold. Her mother was wearing a garish Christmas vest, complete with jingle bells that shook every time she took a step. It reminded Myka of all the Christmases past, some better than others.

“Oh my gosh, Myka, what are the boys like at your school?”

Myka was kind of flummoxed by the question “They’re like boys at your school… except a year older?”

Tracy rolled her eyes and kept dragging her sister along. Their father was waiting at baggage claim and when he looked up at Myka, she caught the edges of his mouth go up into a smile before he quickly returned to his general scowl. ”He’s happy to see me… huh!” Myka muttered to herself, but no one noticed as Tracy was still talking about Kevin and her mother had taken out the schedule that she had made up for their coming weeks together.

Oh, yes, there was going to be a _lot_ of Bering family time.

\----------

Myka had spent a great deal of the past few months leaving the voicemails from her parents unanswered, so that meant she had to spend the first few days answering all of those voicemails… in person. Unrelenting questions about what she was up to, had she joined any clubs, did she like her classes, _what was her roommate like_.

Oh. Right. That. How does she talk about _that_?

She had, until this point, almost forgotten that her family and Helena existed in the same world because, in some ways, they didn’t. Helena was her daily life now. Helena was her normal. And her family… well, she loved them dearly, but there was almost no limit to the amount of panic she felt when she was around them. There was panic even when she just _thought_ about them.

Myka had always tried to play the mediator in arguments around the house, which had in effect actually turned her into the target of most of the jabs. That was her role, it was just part of the dynamic of their household. But, now that she didn’t feel anxious on a daily basis, she didn’t want to fall back into her old habits. She wanted to be the version of Myka that Helena knew.

She attempted to answer all of her parents’ questions calmly; She had gone to some club meetings, but nothing on a regular basis, her classes were fine, but she was making some changes to them next semester (which was a conversation for a later date), and her roommate was lovely. When they pestered her for further explanations, she changed the subject, and with her sister and mother that usually worked. But Warren Bering never did like to make things easy on his eldest daughter.

A week into her Christmas vacation, Myka’s mother had asked her to go with her father to take some things to their church for donation and to pick up some groceries for a holiday party they were throwing later that week. Myka and her father rode in the car silently for a while; Myka had begun reading _A Brave New World_ , which she and Helena had decided to read “together/apart” as neither of them had before and both found it a grave oversight.

“You like it?” Warren grumbled. When Myka looked up, he just nodded at the book.

“Oh, yeah, it’s good.” He drove on in silence once more. After a few minutes, he tried to pick up the conversation. “I always liked Bradbury’s dystopia more. Or H.G. Wells’ _The Sleeper Awakes_. Underappreciated.”

Myka snorted at the mention of H.G. Wells and her father looked affronted. “What?”

“Nothing Dad, just a joke with a friend.” The smile lingered on Myka’s lips and she looked at her cell phone to see if Helena had responded to her pronouncement that she didn’t think Lenina was a very well-drawn character.  

“A _friend,_ eh?” Her father smiled too. He looked legitimately interested in hearing more about this person, but Myka wasn’t sure that he didn’t just want the chance to criticize her choices.

And this brought up that lingering question. Was Myka supposed to tell her family about Helena? Though it was very clear that they were in a relationship and they weren’t hiding it, they also didn’t make it a habit to talk about the relationship with others. And they certainly hadn’t talked to one another about sharing it with their parents.

On top of that she frankly had no idea how her dad would react to the idea of his daughter dating a woman. They’d never even approached the subject before. She could just ask him… hypothetically….

“Hey, kid!” Myka gasped and grabbed the arm rest. “You’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm thinking that hard.” Warren chuckled at having scared Myka.  

“So,” Oh good, he wasn’t done asking questions. “…Is this _friend_ that kid, Pete?”

Myka started to roll her eyes, but stopped herself, mindful that her dad didn’t have much of a sense of humor for eyerolls. At least, not when Myka did it. “Pete is a friend, yes, dad, but he’s not much of a reader.” Warren scowled again, but this time at the thought of someone who didn’t love books as much as he did.

“Well, then, who is it?” He probed.

Why was he pestering her about this so much?!

“Just a friend, dad. I’ve got lots of friends. Lots and lots of friends.” Warren looked at Myka from his periphery. He likely didn’t buy that Myka had suddenly become wildly popular, but she just wanted to move on.

When they arrived at the church, they each began carrying bags of clothes and toys down to the gym to be sorted. On each silent trip down the stairs, Myka felt a little more courageous. Maybe she could tell her dad. Maybe it would actually be a _good_ idea to tell her dad. Maybe he would be absolutely fine with this. Or maybe he would kick her out of the house a week before Christmas.

The upside to that would be that she could just fly back and be with Helena.

When they got back into the car to go to the grocery store, Myka had started to feel old anxieties. Her legs were bouncing and her palms were sweaty, her shoulders were starting to concave. She felt like she was back in the ninth grade, her father’s belittling remarks reminding her that her best was not good enough. She breathed deeply and forced her voice above the sound of the rushing blood in her ears.  

“Dad… how would you feel if I dated a girl?”

She kept her eyes forward. Her body was screaming at her, telling her to abort the mission, it was too dangerous. But now it was out there. And there was nothing she could do.

 “I don’t know. It would depend.” Clipped. Stacato. His voice, as abrasive as usual.

“I just mean in general though... Just… If I wanted to date a girl….” She trailed off. Why was she talking again? Why didn’t she just leave it alone?

There was a long silence. Myka assumed that he was going to pretend that she hadn’t continued the conversation, so her body started to relax. This was just something they weren’t ready to talk about. She picked up her book to begin reading again, only slightly disappointed that her father hadn’t responded, when he stopped the car. She hadn’t even noticed him pull over.

When Myka looked up, her father was staring at her more intensely than she had ever seen. It took her by surprise and, though her legs stopped bouncing, her blood was pulsating as intensely as before.

“Does she treat you well?” Myka didn’t say anything. “Does she make you happy?”

His eyes softened and tears welled in the corners of hers.

“Yes. She does. Very much.” Warren broke their eye contact and pulled back out into the road, without a word.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, they both got out and when Myka reached the back of the car, she was alarmed to feel her father’s arms around her shoulders, grasping onto her tightly.

“Then I’m happy, kid.”

 He broke the hug as suddenly as he had initiated it and Myka had to brace herself on the car so she didn’t fall over, her body still too stunned to react. He walked into the grocery store without turning back to look at her. But if he had, he would have seen her beaming at him. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Myka and Helena have the absolute fluffiest Christmas (apart) of all time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, but wanted to share it.

Myka’s overall mood lifted considerably after her conversation with her father. It was about the closest thing to actual parental support that she had ever seen him manage. And it wasn’t going to undo the last eighteen years. And she wasn’t going to throw too much effort into the relationship just to be disappointed later. But this was a start.

With her dread and anxiety subsiding, Myka was more willing to partake in preperations for the holidays, helping with decorations, making holiday cookies with her mom, setting up for the annual Bering family holiday party. She didn’t even mind sharing more details about her time at school, which delighted her mother.

Their party went off without a hitch and, for the first time she could remember, Myka actually stayed downstairs to partake in the festivities. Every year until this point, she would let people in for the party, take their coats to the guest room, and stay there reading until one of her family members came and dragged her back out to what she viewed as a hostile environment.

This year, Myka was in the middle of a conversation with one of the regular customers at her father’s book store when she heard her mother call to Tracy.

“Tracy, I can’t find Myka, go check the guest room, she’s probably hiding out like usual.”

Myka shot back calmly, “Mom, I’m right over here.”

She had to hide her grin of superiority when she saw the look of pleasant shock on her mom’s face.

“Do you need help with something?”

“No, no…. Just… have a good time…” Jeannie walked back into the kitchen, still confounded over the changes she was witnessing in her daughter. But who was she to question it.

\---------------------

When Christmas morning arrived, before Myka even got out of bed, she called Helena, who picked up immediately.

“Merry Christmas, darling. I’ve been waiting patiently next to my phone for a few hours to say that.” Myka could hear the smile in Helena’s voice.

Myka let Helena catch her up on everything from her day thus far while she lounged in bed. Helena’s family had called to wish her a Merry Christmas, even her father, which had been an unexpected gift. Now, she was sitting in Mrs. Lattimer’s living room opening a stocking that they had put together for her. Right in the middle of a sentence, Pete stole the phone away from Helena.

“Hey, Mykes. Guess what my contribution to Helena’s stocking was?”

“I don’t know, Pete, what was your contribution to Helena’s stocking?”

“So, every year we all get toothbrushes in our stockings because dental hygiene is very important, especially around the holidays and, oh, she’s opening hers now!”

She heard Helena laugh uproariously from her end of the line.

“What? What?! Someone tell me!” She heard Pete’s voice in the background, but was still waiting for an explanation.

Helena came back on the line, still giggling. “Pete got me a sonic screwdriver toothbrush. Because he said, and I quote, ‘Doctor Who is British and nerdy and _you_ are British and nerdy.’”

“I think it’s perfect.”

Helena was still laughing. “So do I.”

Christmas had just begun and already Myka felt the tremendous joy in her life. Her girlfriend and her best friend were bonding and, though she couldn’t be there, she knew that they wished she was. And that was about as good as being apart was going to get.

Christmas Day was usually the one day a year where the Berings were able to put all of their frustrations with one another away and actually enjoy each other’s company – this year was no exception. They opened presents noisily and took turns choosing the Christmas music to play in the background. Tracy had gotten her mother Cards Against Humanity as a joke and Jeannie had insisted that they played, which horrified their father to the point that he had to leave the room while Tracy and Myka rolled around the living room floor cackling.

After all of the gifts from one another had been opened, Myka picked up the package from Helena. Her dad noticed her do it.

“I saw that. One of your friends is good at the crossword.”

“Yeah…” she traced her fingers over the girl’s handwriting. She even missed that. “Helena.”

Her family watched her open “The H.G. Wells Reader: A Complete Anthology,” and while her mom and Tracy didn’t understand why it made her so happy, her father did.

“Ah,” he nodded his head. “Helena.”

It was a worn copy of the book and Myka opened the first page. On it were two notes.

_“My Darling Helena,_

_Since he is your accidental namesake, I thought it best we study up on Wells together. I’ve left you lots of goodies in the margins. I hope the adventures he takes you on fill you with as much joy as you have for me. You are my light._

_My deepest love, forever and ever._

_Papa”_

And at the bottom of the page:

_“Myka,_

_I want to share him with you._

_You are_ my _light._

_Your Helena.”_

All of the gushy sentimentality and the sadness inherent in the inscription made Myka burst into tears. And, oh my god, now that she’d opened her present she had to call Helena because hers was nowhere near as good or thoughtful as this.

She grabbed her phone and ran upstairs to her room, still crying. Jeannie started to go after her, thinking that something terrible had happened while she hadn’t been looking, but Warren held her back.

“She’s alright Jeannie, she’s alright.”

The phone rang a few times and Myka anxiously padded around her room. When Helena picked up, Myka didn’t give her a chance to say anything.

“Helena, I opened your present and it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever gotten and now I feel terrible because my gift to you…”

“Is wonderful.” Helena had to forcefully interject, otherwise Myka would go on for days undercutting herself.

Helena had the gift open on her lap when Myka called; she had found a print of _Future (Woman in Stockholm)_ and ordered it for Helena.

“It’s just… I thought…” The words were getting away from Myka, but she wanted to explain. “When we were looking at that painting, you held my hand and we were talking about the future, and I just thought…” at this point, Myka was sort of hoping that Helena would interject again. “I wanted to give you something that showed you how much I’m looking forward to our future together. And now that I say it out loud….”

“I love it, Myka. And I love you.”

“Thank you, Helena. For the book. And… well… everything.”

“Merry Christmas, Myka.”

“Merry Christmas, Helena.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the real world can be the absolute worst.

Myka had never been happier than she was at the beginning of the second semester of their first year.

She was basking in the glory of ancient culture, language, and literature, and Professor Nielsen had become a mentor to her, though he continued to grumble about it.  

She had arguably the best friends who were ever patient with her occasional abrasiveness and made her laugh more than she knew she could.  

Even things with her parents were running smoothly. They had not been nearly as disappointed in her change to classics as she had assumed. And though she had yet to mention Helena as more than a friend to her mom, it seemed by Jeannie’s perpetual effort to include mentions of Helena in their conversations that the information had been passed along.

And Helena. Helena was a continual source of all of the good things the world offered in one perpetually entrancing being.

She did occasionally forgot to text Myka to tell her if it would be a particularly late night and she also got so distracted by her work that she disengaged completely when Myka went out of her way to try to be helpful. Oh the “thank yous” that had been left unsaid…

But, sometimes, really, it was enough to just be grateful. So she was.

On one of their Sunday nights together, Helena convinced Myka to go join the boys in their room while they finished up their readings for Monday. It was a rather strange twist on their normal dynamic, and Myka would have preferred the option where they did homework mostly undressed, but she was willing to make the sacrifice.

“Hey, Mykes, guess what Jinksy and I did today?” Whatever it was, Pete was pretty proud of it, judging from his excitement. Before Myka could respond, Helena interrupted.

“Pete, why is it that everyone around you has nicknames, but you don’t have one yourself?”

They all stopped and considered it.

“Because I’m a more thoughtful friend than the rest of you? I DUNNO H.G.” he teased. Helena scowled at him while Steve snorted out a laugh and Myka catapulted herself across the couch to punch Pete on the arm.

“You can’t call her that, Pete, only I can call her that. Get your own nickname.”

Pete rubbed his shoulder, looking dismayed by Myka’s vehemence.

“Fine! Jeez!” He started taunting her with a hug and she pushed him off playfully before returning to his desk (a desk that basically belonged to Myka at this point, since Pete never used it).

“Anyway, what I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted is that we applied for internships for the summer. I’m gonna be a super-secret secret service agent man.” Pete was stealthily miming holding a gun and talking into his wrist.

“It’s for one of our classes.” Steve explained, “We applied to a bunch of agencies. CIA, FBI, ATF, NSA…”

“Basically anything that has an acronym?” Helena antagonized.

“Except the FDA.” Steve grinned back.

Pete quit his pantomime and opened the fridge to grab a snack. “What are you guys doing this summer?”

“I…” Myka started and shot a look at Helena, who kept her eyes on her computer. She continued “We hadn’t really talked about it.”

“You might want to,” Pete managed to barely get the words out of his overfull mouth, “stuff’s due like yesterday.”

Myka _had_ thought about her options. Professor Neilsen had mentioned that he wouldn’t mind having a project assistant for the summer and she was sure that her parents also wouldn’t mind having an extra set of hands in the bookstore. But until she and Helena talked about it, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

The prospect of _months_ apart? Winter break had been painful enough.

“Dr. Frederic had me apply for some grants to continue my work here… there’s also an internship at MIT and one at the Hickock Center for Brain Injury. I’m waiting to hear back.”

Well, that was new information. _Completely_ new. Utterly unknown to Myka until this very moment. Awesome.

“Myka?” Helena sounded confused and Myka realized that her face must not have been concealing the conversation going on in her head very well. She looked back down at her work without responding.

“Myka, what?” Less confusion this time, more annoyance.

“Nothing, Helena. I’m glad your summer is shaping up so nicely.”

If the girls had been looking at Steve and Pete, they would have seen two people who were doing their best to sink into themselves, two people who really wished the door was a little closer and the air in the room was a little thinner.

“Bugger.” The word itself was barely audible. The tone, however, was remarkably clear.

“It’s fine.” Myka snipped and went back to her reading. She wasn’t going to argue with Helena in front of Steve and Pete and she’d rather just not talk to her at all right now. If she had a little bit more time to process the hurt she was feeling, it would likely be better for everyone.

“Myka, I didn’t…” she cut Helena off with a “Not now.”

Pete, ever incapable of dealing with uncomfortable situations, turned the television on and pretended to be completely entranced in a re-run of _Revenge_ , teasing Steve about the show that he actually _did_ love, about which he had sworn Pete to secrecy. The look Pete received in response to his jests was enough to get him to murmer, “Sorry, dude…” sheepishly. The entire room was now fraught with awkwardness.

The girls were both too stubborn to try to talk about it, and neither of the boys wanted to make them leave. So they carried on in silence until Helena’s phone rang.

Myka heard the echo of a “Hello Charles,” before the door had closed behind Helena.

“Jesus, Mykes.” Pete needed the tension lifted _immediately,_ but Myka was having none of it.

“No, Pete. I’m not doing this, I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Don’t you think…”

“I said no.” Myka cut him off again. She knew she was being slightly irrational. Maybe more than slightly. But she didn’t intend to say something she would regret and everything she wanted to say right now? She would regret.

_I mean, the total and complete lack of awareness in a person who notices everything is just…_

Myka’s train of thought was cut off by the door opening once again and her stomach lurched when she saw the look of anguish on Helena’s face.

“Myka… it’s my dad…”

\---------------

Myka set up the Skype call with her parents. She only had about a half hour between classes, but she had to ask them now.

When they picked up, her mom had her face up to the camera like she was inspecting it.

“Hey, mom, I can see you, you don’t have to be that close.”

“Oh, Myka! Good, hi!” The consternation in Jeannie’s face dissipated and she sat back. Myka’s dad was emptying boxes of books onto shelves in the background and Myka called to him,

“I need to talk to you too, Dad.” He inaudibly sighed (the shoulders gave him away) and came to sit next to his wife.

“I need to ask you both for something and it’s very important to me, so please don’t respond until you’ve really considered it.”

Jeannie nodded and Warren barely hid his eye-roll. Well, this was the version of her dad she was getting today. It wasn’t great timing, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

“It’s Helena’s dad…”

Myka told the entire story of what had befallen Helena’s father – the accident, the changes, how his own brain had turned on him completely.

“It’s gotten worse. Much worse. Apparently he infrequently had seizures due to the damage, but a series of large ones hit him yesterday… and… they’re just waiting until Helena can get back to say goodbye.”

Her heart broke just saying the words. And she could see pain in her parents’ eyes as well. Myka didn’t know what it was to lose a parent, but they did. Their looks made her wish she was having this conversation in person, so she could collapse in her mother’s lap. But no, she was having it over the computer, in a hallway where students kept noisily passing her, interrupting her thoughts.

The conversation was hard already, but it was only going to get harder. She had promised herself she would never do this…

“Helena doesn’t have the money to fly back to England… and… and she needs me to go with her. I would pay you back, _we_ would pay you back. But I can’t make her do this on her own.”

Jeannie looked over at Warren who remained still. Myka couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or somewhere else on the computer screen, but it felt like he was staring straight into her. This was becoming a habit with them.

“When?”

“We’d need to leave tomorrow or Wednesday.”

Myka noted the subtle widening of Warren’s eyes and she quickly picked up her argument, “Spring break starts Thursday, so I wouldn’t miss very many classes and I’ll work in the store all summer and get a second job to pay you back. I’ll get a third job if I have to. Dad. She needs me.”

Warren pursed his lips, “Your mother will send you the itinerary later today.” He walked away from the screen and Myka saw him leave through the back door of the storefront. Jeannie followed him with her eyes and turned back to her daughter.

“Mom,” Myka was doing her best to keep it together, “I don’t know how to do this.”

A pained smile appeared on her mother’s face. “Myka, my love. Yes you do.”

She was starting to panic, “No, no, I don’t. This is huge and I’m just me and I want to fix it, but I can’t. I can’t fix it.”

“No, you can’t. So, you pack her bag for her. You sit next to her on the plane and you hold her hand. You make sure she eats. You make sure she bathes. You carry tissues with you wherever you go. You do the things that are too easy and too hard.”

Myka had begun to take deep breaths, staying in sync with her mother’s calming words.

“What if I don’t do it right?”

“Sweetie, no one alive knows how to handle this kind of thing perfectly. It takes necessary courage to even try. But God, does the trying matter.” Tears were in the corners of her mother’s eyes and she knew this was something deeper than this moment. Myka couldn’t say any of the thousand things running through her head. They all felt insubstantial right now. And so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context - I've always kind of wondered how Helena would have handled the loss that she felt when Christina died if she had had Myka around at the time... so that's where this came from. And for my own purposes, I wanted to keep it out of the canon universe, which also meant keeping a child far, far away from the story.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Myka and Helena go to see Helena's father.

“Thanks, Claude. I really appreciate it.”

“No sweat. And Myka? Tell her that I’m thinking about her.” Claudia rethought her request, “Or don’t. Just… know that I am.”

“Thank you.”

Myka hung up the phone and put a check next to “Have Claudia get notes for all of Helena’s classes.” Myka didn’t plan on sharing Claudia’s last statement with Helena, who had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to talk about this with anyone else. When Helena had barged back into Pete and Steve’s room, she had been somewhat frantic, but after her initial statement, she had been unwilling to say anything else until Myka followed her back to their room. And even that was a sparse conversation.

Myka had the majority of the to-do list done. She needed to pack their bags and send e-mails to her professors explaining why she’d be missing their classes in the next few days.

She had been checking things off the list she had compiled post-parental conversation. She was doing it methodically. Carefully. One task, then the next.

Myka would be okay.

Helena would be okay.

They would be okay.

When she got back to the dorm, Pete was sitting outside of her door. His arms wrapped around his knees. As soon as he saw her, he shot up, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to be uncomfortable today.

He tried to keep his voice low and his words sped up as he went on. “Hey, I knocked on the door, but no one answered, and I heard someone in there but I figured if _you_ were there, you would answer the door, so it must just be her and she must not wanna talk, so… I waited.”

They looked at each other blankly. Myka made no invitations and Pete did not ask to come in. He looked down at his shoes. He didn’t want to emotionally engage in this, but he also knew he couldn’t ignore what his friends were going through. “I know what this is like, Mykes. I remember it. I feel it with me every day. Still.” He finally looked up. “I’m just saying… if you need someone to talk to, or if _she_ needs someone to talk to…”

No more words came from either of them. Myka just slowly put her arms around his shoulders and when she did, he heaved a sigh weighty enough to knock both of them down. They were all too young to be dealing with this. And yet, deal they must.

Myka was nervous to walk into the bedroom, not having spoken to Helena all day. She had left her in bed that morning to take care of everything that needed to be done. Myka had tried to stay awake with her, but once 4 a.m. came along, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. When she woke up three hours later, Helena was still lying with her eyes open, but disengaged.

And she was in the same position when Myka finally had the courage to open the door that evening. Myka did a quick once-over to make sure the girl was still breathing, at least, and then entered the room. Pack the bags, make a check mark.

_Have to keep moving. Have to keep doing._

That was generally the way Helena walked through the world as well. She was not a person who was still, she was a person who did at least two things at once, generally more. Just because she could. And because she had to. There was always a greater goal, something worth striving toward.

But, now. Now she had run out of time. There was nothing she could do in a single day to change anything.

And that was it, yes?

Helena wanted to wrap her head around this, she wanted to understand it, to study this feeling, but it was as if someone had suddenly left out one letter of the alphabet and asked her to go on reading as if things were no different.

If the world is a lipogram, where does the missing character go?

Myka finished packing their bags and, just like her mother had told her, made sure Helena ate and bathed. They did it mostly in silence, moving as one. Occasionally, Myka would whisper small platitudes in Helena’s ear. Platitudes that she knew wouldn’t help, but she couldn’t bear to say nothing.

Their flight left at 6:30 the next morning and Steve had agreed to take them to the airport. They only had a short layover in Toronto and would get to Heathrow by 8:30 that night, London time. She had e-mailed their itinerary to Charles and he would be picking them up the next evening. Everything was planned and set. There was no more moving to be done. 

Myka flipped the light off and delicately climbed over Helena to sleep near the wall. She expected for Helena to stay in her current position, folded in on herself, but as soon as she was settled, staring at the ceiling, arms at her sides, she felt Helena’s hand on her wrist, grabbing it tightly, pulling it to her. She flipped Myka onto her side and grasped her back so tightly that Myka had trouble catching her breath. With her other hand, she steadied Myka’s face directly in front of her so that their eyes met and Myka saw something that she had never seen there. Where there had once been determination, there was hopelessness. Where there had once been playfulness, there was severity. It scared Myka. There was a lack of trust in her eyes. And not a lack of trust for Myka, but for herself.

Helena kissed Myka fiercely and it hurt, but she didn’t pull back. Helena began to pull at Myka’s clothing, tearing it away from her skin. She was erratic and clawing and Myka didn’t know how to react. Up until this point, it had always been tender, they had always been in sync with one another, slow and sweet. The fact that they always climaxed together had just been a simple physical manifestation of their bond.

But that wasn’t what this was. When Helena’s mouth found Myka’s nipple, her body couldn’t help but respond in kind and as Helena bypassed her underwear to reach her center, Myka started to pull back. She didn’t want to take advantage of a compromising situation. She didn’t want their sex life to ever be something that led to guilt or covered up pain.

Helena pulled her head up to look at Myka once more, and the severity in her eyes had given way to tears.

“Please?”

After a pause, the silent nod of acquiescence was enough for Helena to continue. It was more intense and raw than it had ever been and it was no surprise to Myka that after she had ridden out her waves, there were tears on her face. She hadn’t felt herself begin to cry.

Helena climbed up and kissed the tears off of her face before lying down with her back to Myka. When Myka proceeded to kiss the back of her girlfriend’s neck, letting her hands roam the girl’s body, wanting Helena to feel the release she just had, Helena tensed.

“No.”

It was like she had punched her in the stomach the way the air left Myka’s lungs. So she pulled back and laid as she had when this all started, facing up, arms at her sides.

They would leave in the morning. They would go to London. Helena would say goodbye. They would get through the hardest part of this. And she would do the things that were too easy and too hard for both of them.

\-----------------------

Myka and Helena made it through the transatlantic flight without much to speak of. Myka had brought along a handful of books from their shelves and had seemingly offhandedly placed them on the tray in front of her seat, hoping that Helena would pick one up. She had, at some point when Myka was dozing, and was studying it intently when Myka awoke. _The Eyre Affair._ Good. Myka had purposely brought light fare, hoping that it would at least distract Helena, if nothing else.

When they arrived, Helena led the way silently through Heathrow, clasping onto Myka’s hand. Myka had never been to London before and these were hardly the circumstances under which she wanted to remember her first trip, but she tried to take in her surroundings regardless. Myka saw Helena flag down a young man at baggage claim and she assumed this was Charles. He was obviously older than Helena, but not by too many years. Myka thought he sort of resembled a weasel, which wasn’t made less harsh by the fact that he was scowling at her with his eyes narrowed.

As soon as they approached, Helena threw her arms around him and said, “Take me to him.”

\---------------------

The hospital was a bit of a blur, a lot of busyness going on around Myka, who was caught up trying to keep a pace with the Wells siblings. Her legs were longer, but they were more driven.

When they found his room, Myka stayed outside, not wanting to interrupt the family, though she watched them all through the window. Helena’s mother looked like what Myka assumed Helena herself would one day. Helena obviously got her thick raven locks from her mother, and her piercing eyes, but she also had her poise. The woman was statuesque without trying. Even in the middle of this chaos, with the bags around those eyes and all of the physical manifestation of the past five years, she was lovely.

A stupid thing for Myka to be noticing right now. Really stupid.

She looked at Helena’s father next. Helena had shown her one picture of him, from before the accident. He had been tall and thin without being lanky, a smile too big for his face, dark hair and eyes just like the rest of them. The man in the hospital looked nothing like him. His father, Helena’s grandfather, perhaps. Much older, all bones and wrinkles, having wasted away.

Myka found a chair to sit in where she would be out of the way but could still peek in through the window. She saw Helena crawl into the bed next to her comatose father, holding her mother’s hand. They talked to one another, though there was no way for her to make out the words. She even saw them share a few laughs.

At some point, Helena’s eyes went to the window and when Myka saw her looking back at her, she diverted her gaze. She didn’t want to seem like she was prying. But, shortly thereafter, Helena was in front of her, with her hand outstretched.

“Come meet him?”

When she entered the room, she could see Charles’ distaste written all over his face (she was wondering where that was coming from, but it was a discussion for a different time), and Helena’s mother gave Myka a very faint smile of welcome.

Helena walked Myka up to the bed and put her hands on her shoulders.

“Myka, this is my dad. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Myka.”

This was absolutely the worst possible way to meet your girlfriend’s family ever.

Obviously there was no response to Helena’s introduction and Myka kept her mouth shut, fearing that she would say something like “Nice to meet you.” to a man who couldn’t possibly respond. It felt absurd. She was trying to keep her cool, but she was absolutely out of her element and stepped back awkwardly, running into Helena, who let out a chuckle.

_“Oh my god, her laugh,”_ Myka thought. She was so relieved to know it was still in there. She still retained it. Helena went on talking over Myka’s thoughts.

“She’s the reason I got here, Dad. I couldn’t have made it to…” Helena took Myka’s hand and squeezed it and her voice lightened, “I wouldn’t have made it to say goodbye to you.”

Myka couldn’t help the selfish thoughts running through her head, mostly statements eliminating her doubts. Reinforcing that she was wanted here. She was _needed_ here. She moved to sit in a chair in the corner of the room now, silently staying out of the family’s business. Helena’s mother filled them in on what would happen and how they would be moving forward. The intention was not to take him off of the machines until tomorrow, so Helena would have some time with him and services would be next week.

For the most part, Helena sat quietly on the edge of the bed, watching her father while her mother talked. At one point, though, after everything had been explained and they were in silence, she turned and looked her mother in the eyes. Too long with her own thoughts, something came over her so vehemently. The frightening flashes that Myka saw in her eyes the night before returned.

“I was supposed to fix him. I failed.” It was acerbic and cutting.

“Helena, darling, no one was ever going to ‘fix’ this.” Her mother didn’t move to hold Helena’s hand, she held fast to her corner, arms folded across her torso.

“He died a long time ago, Hel. He was never coming back.” Charles just sounded sad.

“I should have been able to do it. I should have been able to do more. _I’m sorry.”_ Helena whispered it. She whispered it first to her father and then, she kept repeating it, over and over to the room. Neither her mother nor Charles made a move to do anything to comfort the girl, so Myka dashed across the room, throwing a dirty look at Charles (if he could, so could she) and pulled Helena into her. She continued to whisper her apologies into Myka’s chest.

Myka wanted to tell her that it was going to be fine, but she couldn’t. So she walked her over to the couch and held her close until the whispers became only breaths and the breaths evened out as she found sleep for the first time in days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I'm really sorry this turned so dark. It won't stay here forever. Promise.
> 
> Edited 12/19 to let people know I've not forsaken this story (though the feedback has overwhelmed me a bit!), but my computer has been shipped off to be fixed, so no writing for a few more weeks. Can't wait to get back. These kids are making me anxious.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which angst and pain rear their beautiful heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prodigal computer has returned and so, then, have I!
> 
> This is short, but wanted to let people know that I was back working on this.
> 
> I want to sincerely thank everyone for your feedback. It's been a pretty emotional experience. Light and love to you all.

Sometimes the people we love abandon us. Not for lack of trying to love, but for this or that. This mistake or that tragedy. This choice or that inflexibility. And sometimes they abandon us against their own will.

It is not an unusual plight. It is not an original plight. It is what those people leave behind in their stead that tells the story. For each, something different. For each, something that belongs to only them.

Helena wanted to scrub it away. From her memory, from her body. Her being would be washed anew. She could make herself shine. She could let go of all of her mistakes, everything that _she’d_ done wrong.

But she didn’t really want to shine. She wanted to scrub it away until she was gone. The invisible girl.

Helena was startled out of her thoughts by a soft rap at the door of her childhood bedroom.  She looked at it, but said nothing.

After a moment, another rap and a tentative voice. “Helena? Are you awake?”

She kept her eyes on the door, unmoving, unwilling to speak, unwilling to engage. But it opened anyway.

Myka peered in, attempting not to wake Helena. She looked over at the bed and, when she saw it empty, turned around to find Helena in an old, beaten up rocking chair next to the window having turned her head back to look out onto the postage stamp of a backyard.

“Helena, the people downstairs… they want…” Myka’s voice had been quiet to begin with, but now it was hard to hear at all. “They want to share their condolences.”

“No, thank you.” She continued looking out the window. She was absentmindedly caressing a tattered stuffed frog in her lap. It had obviously been sewn back together many times. Myka hadn’t seen it in the previous nights that they had slept in the room.

“Helena, there’s a guy down there who went to school with your dad. He’s telling all of these stories that not even your mom had heard and I really think…” Helena cut her off before she could be given the opportunity to change her mind.

“Myka, I can’t.”

 She turned her head, but shook it back to its original position before they made eye contact. She hadn’t been looking at Myka. Not for days now. She couldn’t. The girl had held her hand when they turned off her father’s machines. She had held her hand in the car ride home and that night and all of the days after, while she helped Helena’s mother plan the funeral arrangements. She held her hand that morning when the priest had committed her father’s body to the earth. The ritual of the day had been comforting in its own way, but Helena had reached the end of her ability to catch people looking at her with pity.

She didn’t want to be pitied. She didn’t deserve to be pitied. And the _last_ person she wanted pitying her was Myka. So she didn’t look.

“Fine. I’ll go make you a plate of food and you can decide whether you want to come down when you’re finished eating.”

“Myka, I don’t…”

“No, Helena.” Myka was barely able to restrain her impatience, but she tried anyway. “You can sit up here away from everyone as much as you want, but you’re not going to starve yourself doing it.” And before she could hear any more protestation, she turned and shut the door.

\--------------------------

When Myka returned to the kitchen, Charles was the only other person in there. She was surprised to feel relieved. Though he had yet to be particularly pleasant to her, Myka found herself to be comfortable in his presence. He didn’t like her, that much was obvious, but he didn’t go out of his way to rub it in her face. Instead, he just let her be. And right now that was all she needed.

“She’s not coming down, then?”

She had thought too soon.

Giving Charles a quick smile to acknowledge that she had heard him, she began preparing a plate. “No, she’s not.”

“Even now, she’s getting her way.” Charles plopped himself down onto the counter, within Myka’s eye line. What in God’s name could he possibly want now? She and Helena had been here six days and _this_ was when he was choosing to talk to Myka?

“I hardly think she’s getting her way, Charles.” He was making it so easy to dislike him back.

He pulled a small notebook and pen out of his jacket and started writing. Just sitting there on the counter, fully in Myka’s way, scribbling notes. She circumvented him and put the plate in the microwave.

“She got to leave. He got worse after she left. Every time I’d go to see him, he’d just be angry that she wasn’t with me.”

Myka was trying her best to discern what Charles wanted from her. There must be some answer he was looking for.

“She left because she wanted to fix things…” Myka started but Charles had had enough. He threw his pad and pen to the floor.

“Why does she keep _saying_ that?! There wasn’t anything to FIX.”

“I guess she doesn’t think that’s true.”

The microwave added its weak “ _ding,_ ” ending the conversation.

As Myka walked out of the room, Charles stopped her one last time.

“She’s staying though, right? She’s not leaving again? She has to stay. For mum at least.”

“I don’t know, Charles.” And she really didn’t. When they had left for London, she had assumed that they would return to school together. But then, everything had been so much _more_ than she expected. Maybe Myka had been selfish in her assumption. Helena’s family needed her right now.

Myka tapped on the door lightly before she walked in. Helena hadn’t moved from her position at the window. And Myka saw. Helena’s family might need her right now, but there wasn’t much there to give.

\--------------------------

It was Thursday, a day before their return flight, and Myka had yet to speak to Helena about whether she intended to go back to school or not. Myka had finally been able to coax the girl out of the house, and they were taking a walk around Helena’s childhood monuments. Myka asked questions – could they walk to Helena’s old schools? Where had she liked to play? Did she still have any friends in the area?

Helena responded politely, but didn’t elaborate on anything. Yes, she had always been within walking or biking distance from her schools, there was a park a few blocks up with lots of flora that she had liked to investigate as a child, she hadn’t kept up with many people and they were probably all off at school anyway.

It had seemed odd to Myka that none of Helena’s friends had come to her father’s funeral, but she didn’t push the issue. Myka had had a lifetime of learning how to not push the issue that had come back with alarming speed now that she needed it again.

No. No, she couldn’t think that. Helena was not like her father. Helena was grieving. Her father was just stubborn and cold and put people on edge. Helena was nothing like that. All right, yes, she was stubborn, but that was mostly cute, and she had been cold this last week, but who wouldn’t be? And Helena had been the first person who had ever really calmed Myka’s spirits. So Myka would extend as much grace as Helena needed her to. And that was that.

Myka had obviously been having this conversation in her head for some time, because when she looked up again, having run into Helena’s stopped body, they had walked all the way to the church where Helena’s father’s services had been held.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Helena was looking toward the steeple, her eyes shimmering with the faintest of light desperate to stay alive in them.

“It is.”

Myka had noticed the beauty of it before. The square building, made of inlaid bricks, had hand-carved stone garlands over each window. Each slightly different, delicately created. Hard and soft in one.    

“My parents were married here. Charles and I both baptized. Why do people always put their beginnings and their endings in the same place? Happiness and sadness forever linked…” Helena trailed off and began to walk on.

A thought occurred to Myka. Something she had taken note of when she read it, because it had been underlined and highlighted and dog-eared as VERY. IMPORTANT. “Well, to crudely quote H.G. Wells, ‘ _We are always getting away from the present moment. Our mental existence, which are immaterial and have no dimensions, are passing with a uniform velocity from the cradle to the grave.’_ We try to live in those moments forever. So they are linked, yes. At least H.G. Wells and your father both seemed to think so.”

The mention of her father stopped Helena and she turned and looked at Myka who was now a good ten feet away. She finally looked. She was surprised that it wasn’t pity that she found there. Sadness, yes, but no judgment.

 Helena started.

“This is too hard.”

“I know.”

“I want the words to go away. I want the words and the thoughts that come from the words and the feelings that come from the thoughts to go away.”

“I know.”

“But they’re not going to.”

“I know.”

Neither girl moved. Helena feeling too paralyzed by it all and Myka being too unsure of the delicate balance placed between them.

“I think I have to stay here, Myka. I don’t think I can go back.”

It was devastating to hear, but Myka didn’t know what the right thing was either. She didn’t know if Helena should stay or go. She knew that all she wanted was Helena to be with her, so that she could make sure she got through this. She trusted Helena implicitly, but had seen enough of the shadows of self-doubt and hate in her in the past week, that she feared not being close to her.

But at the end of the day, it wasn’t her decision, and they were both so tired, so she nodded her head in affirmation.

“I love you, Helena.”

“I know.”

The walked home in silence, hands linked once more.


	15. Chapter 15

“Have you spoken to her?” Warren Bering was balancing the books for the month when his wife mentioned that Myka and Helena would be flying back to the states the next day.

“No, dear, not since she e-mailed to let us know they had gotten there. I’m sure there’s a lot going on.”

Warren passed the books off for his wife to do a final check on the accounts.

“I don’t know how I feel about this, Jeannie.”

His wife didn’t even look up. “What are you referring to, Warren?”

He rapped on the table with his knuckles, a sometimes nervous habit of his. “She’s nineteen for Christ’s sake. What’s she doing flying halfway across the world for someone she barely knows?”

Jean responded, as blasé as she allowed herself to be when her husband started getting himself worked up. “She’s trying to do the right thing, Warren. Something I’d like to think we should be proud of her for.”

Warren stood, looking around the room to see if there was anything he could do with himself. Pacing. Stomping. Kicking things out of his way. This frantic nature, this was something he only shared with his wife. She had been privy to it for over two decades at this point, though, so it didn’t faze her.

“And I don’t think this girl is someone she ‘barely knows.’” Jean tried to mimic him lightheartedly, but he didn’t find it very funny.

“I don’t like it. I don’t like it, Jeannie. I’m going to call her tomorrow and tell her what I think about this whole thing.”

“Warren, please….”

“No, Jeannie, no. It’s nonsense, it’s just nonsense.”

“Don’t. Warren, just leave her be. She needs to do this.” When he started to protest, she stood and cut him off, “And she needs to do it without you breathing down her neck.”

She gave him _that_ look and he backed down. “Fine. But soon. She and I are going to talk about this _soon_.”

\-----------------------------

Myka sat on the floor, dividing her clothes to be rolled up and put back in her suitcase. Helena had wanted to lay down when they got back to the house, so Myka was doing her best not to disturb her. She was reading something quietly with just a bedside lamp on and her eyes kept fluttering closed. It reminded Myka of the first night they had ever spent at school.

She had resented the girl so much then. She had been so unkind, so scared. Scared that she would live in her shadow. She had thought that, of course, because Helena was beautiful and aloof, that they would never have anything in common. That she couldn’t trust her. And she had been so deeply wrong. She wanted to take it all back, all the wasted time. Even though it had only been a few months, she felt ashamed even remembering it.

If only they had had that time. She just wanted more time.  

She turned back to her suitcase. Looking at Helena was only making this already difficult process worse. She zipped open the front pocket to begin packing some smaller items and saw a gleam of fluorescent green at the bottom. She pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. Or rather, a crumpled up post-it note.

As she opened it, her stomach seized up. It was Helena’s handwriting. She hadn’t gotten one of these in what felt like such a long time, where did it come from?

 _“_ _My dearest - You've gone home for Christmas and it has broken my heart. I hope that you find this stowaway at a moment when you most miss me and it can feel like a hug from afar. All of my love. H.G."_

She did miss her. She missed her more than she thought it possible to miss someone who was half a room away. Myka pushed back the tears that were cavalierly fighting their way forward. She didn’t get to cry. This wasn’t her tragedy. This wasn’t her loss.

But God, did it feel like it.  

She stepped lightly over to the bed and took the notebook out of the sleeping girl’s hands. She scanned through a number of equations, proofs, and sketches, each sketch with a frantically-written note alongside. She picked up enough of it to know that this was some of Helena’s research. It looked rudimentary, the beginning of something forming. Myka couldn’t even guess how many of these notebooks probably existed, or when it was exactly that Helena had started planning.

“Myka?” She was such a light sleeper. Helena’s eyes were still closed, but she had her arm stretched out for Myka to get in the bed with her. She set the notebook down and slid in, protectively enveloping Helena into her. A hug from afar.

Myka stroked the back of Helena’s head, scattering kisses along her hairline and forehead. Who was going to hold Helena while she tried to sleep from now on? If Myka was gone, if Myka went back to _real life_ , who was going to take care of Helena?

Charles certainly wasn’t going to do it. And for as much as Myka liked Helena’s mother, the woman just wasn’t in a place where she could parent. Not right now. That much was obvious.

“Helena, will you look at me for a second?” Helena turned her head upward, eyes fixed. Myka had gotten lost in those eyes so many times. Now Helena was lost in them too.

Myka stroked her temple and down to her cheek. _Be present. Stay with me._ She was trying to convey it all without saying any of it.

“Helena, why don’t you want to come back?”

 _Let’s talk this through. Let’s be rational. Let’s do this together_. Myka held Helena’s face firm, toward her. She wouldn’t let her run away, even if this hurt both of them.

“It’s gone Myka. It doesn’t matter anymore. There’s nothing there.”

 _No. No, no, no, Helena. I’m there! I’M THERE!_ Myka’s mind was screaming at her to get angry. To fight for Helena.

“There’s so much there, Helena. People care about you. People love you.”

“People pity me, Myka.”

_There. Okay, she sounds angry, but at least she sounds like she cares about this._

“People don’t pity you. They’re sad for you because something terrible and senseless happened to you.”

“No, they don’t understand. This is _my_ fault, if I had just worked harder, if I hadn’t let things distract me…”

_She’s getting worked up. Calm. Keep it calm._

“It’s not your fault, Helena. It’s not.”

Myka shook her head, but was at a loss. _What else? What else can we talk about?_

“Helena, do you know why I never dated anyone before you?” Helena mirrored Myka’s action, shaking her head as much as Myka’s firm grasp allowed. “Okay, well other than the fact that I exhibit the smoothness of a baby giraffe,”

_Almost a smile, she almost smiled, keep it up Bering._

“Other than that, there was also just never a person that I found more interesting than books or puzzles or, well, homework, frankly. Characters in books were more interesting than people in real life. But Helena, the first time I saw you, you were more interesting than any character I had ever read about. I didn’t _like_ you…”

Helena almost scowled.

“But you were so interesting. And it didn’t hurt that you looked like what I’ve just always assumed Aphrodite looks like.”

_A little more of a smile. Keep talking. Keep her here._

“And that made me so scared. You scared me. Because you were perfect and I was me. But Helena… you make me feel like I’m perfect too.”

_She’s starting to cry. No, that wasn’t the point of this._

“You saved me. You saved me from being too scared to live. You gave me the courage to pursue what I wanted, you gave me the courage to ask for help when I needed it...”

“You did that yourself, Myka.”

“But you helped. I did the things I did because I knew you believed that I could. So will you please just let me save you too? Will you please come home?” The question lingered.

“But what am I supposed to do, Myka? What am I supposed to actually wake up in the morning and _do_?”

“I know he’s gone Helena and it’s so unfair. The only thing in the world I want to do is give him back to you. I can’t though. But someday Helena? Someday you’re going to be able to give someone back to their loved ones. Because you’re miraculous and you can change the world if you want to.”

“And all I have to do is ‘come home?’” Helena wasn’t mocking her, but she was mocking the idea that this was somehow going to be wrapped up in a neat, tidy package.

“No, Helena. All you have to do is… all you have to do, _for right now,_ is not let yourself give into disappearing. And every day, make yourself a little more whole. Until you’re ready. Ready for whatever it is you want to be ready for. But I’ll be there, okay? As long as you come home, I’ll be there and you can cry and you can tell me how pissed off you are that he’s gone every day for the rest of our lives. And you can stay in bed and you can not talk to me, but you _cannot_ disappear, okay?”

Myka finally stopped talking and felt how tense she was. Her whole body was stiff and laser-focused on making Helena actually hear this.

“Every day for the rest of our lives?”

“Yeah. Even if you decide to stay here, you’re stuck with me. Expect a torrent of e-mails and phone calls and letters because, oh, there will be a colossal storm of communication.”

_She’s here. Even if just for this moment, she’s with you. Yes, Myka, yes. You’ve got her._

“I’ve got you Helena, I’ve got you.” Myka put her arm around Helena once more, letting her put her head back on her chest. For as long as Helena needed it, Myka had her.

\----------------------------

Contrary to what Charles had said, Helena’s mother actually seemed relieved when the girls announced that they would both be flying back to Cleveland. Myka caught the look on Charles’ face as well. She had expected him to be giving her a dirty look, but he was actually peering at his sister – sadness, disappointment, guilt all in one.

When he dropped them off at the airport, Myka took him aside just for a moment before he hugged his sister goodbye.

“Charles, if you ever need anything, call her. Call me. We’re family now, okay?”

Maybe they weren’t family, but Myka needed him to know that she was waving a white flag. They were on the same team.

She had expected him to scowl in response, but instead he pulled her up into a tight hug, taking her by surprise. She hesitated, and then reciprocated.

“Make sure she’s okay?”

“Without question.”

The siblings had a private moment by the car while Myka retrieved the suitcases from the trunk and spoke to an attendant about their gate number. When she turned back, the two were backing away from an embrace, tears lining Charles’ eyes. Helena gave him a kiss on the cheek and turned back to the airport door to retrieve her suitcase.

With a final wave to Charles, they headed home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these chapters keep taking longer and longer for me to write and yet keep getting shorter and shorter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the girls return to school.
> 
> (Also, there is a hidden Easter egg to another piece of literature. Should anyone catch what they think is a reference... It is.)

Pete and Steve arrived at the airport together to pick up the girls. Myka hadn’t expected both of them, but was so relieved to see their familiar, warm faces.

“Quick! Get in! If this cop sees me stopped here again, he’s gonna freak out, I’m not kidding.”

Pete was sitting in the driver’s seat, peering around dodgily. 

“You’re allowed to stop, Pete.” Myka laughed at him while rushing to put the bags in the trunk. Helena slunk into the back seat without saying hello.

“Dude. We’ve circled around like eight times and that’s only because he keeps waving us off. I’m serious. He’s gonna kill me. Why was your flight so late?”

Myka ignored him, hoping that Helena would answer his question. Steve shut the trunk and pulled Myka into a hug, speaking into her ear so the others wouldn’t hear. “It’s good to see you. You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“She okay?”

“She’ll get there.”

Steve got into the front passenger seat and Myka collapsed in the back, grateful to be home. Helena scooted closer to her and locked their arms, putting her head on Myka’s shoulder.

They drove back in relative silence, other than Pete yelling an occasional curse at a driver he felt was in his way.

The boys helped the girls bring in their bags and said their goodnights to Helena. As he was walking out the door, Pete hesitated and then doubled back, sweeping Helena into a hug. Without asking, he just did.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Helena.”

She was taken aback. The most she had ever gotten out of Pete was a fist-bump. And she fought the instinct to shrug him off or pull away. _It’s not pity, he missed you._ She gave him a quick, tentative squeeze and then turned to her bed, pretending to need something from her suitcase.

Baby steps.

Myka walked Pete and Steve back to their room. Helena knew they were going to talk about her, but it was inevitable, so she just went back to unpacking in earnest.  

“Mykes, why the radio silence since you left? I was kinda freaking out.” Pete had so many questions to ask her.

“Radio silence? No, I e-mailed you when we got there and then I e-mailed you again yesterday!”

“You e-mailed me to pick you up.”

“Yes. E-mail. Communication. Not silence.” Pete looked at her flatly, while she threw her arms out, already annoyed to be arguing with him. Steve just walked along taking it all in. Ah, they were back.

“Point is, what the what, man? How is she? I mean, she’s back, that’s good.”

Myka nodded while Steve unlocked the door to their room and they all moved in. “Yeah, it is good that she’s back. She’s not great. But she’s here. Just, do me a favor? Try not to treat this like it’s a big thing…”

“Yeah, we won’t, because it’s a HUGE thing.” Pete was flabbergasted.

“I know, Pete. But she didn’t even want to come back because she doesn’t want to be pitied. She almost stayed in England. So, just…”

“We’ll do our best, Myka.” Steve gave her a side hug and moved over to the couch.

“Okay, good. Thanks.” Myka gave him a second look. “Wait, Steve… what are you doing here? Why aren’t you home for the end of spring break?”

“I was, but Pete and I decided we both wanted to be here when you got back.”

Pete already had his mouth full of food so it was hard to understand his next few sentences, “Yeah, and Claudia’s gonna be back in the morning. She’s got homework for you guys.”

“She’s got mine too? I just asked her to get Helena’s notes, I didn’t expect her to…”

“Yeah, she got yours too. Mykes, you got people, okay? What’s that saying? It takes a village?” Pete stuffed another handful of potato chips into his mouth in the middle of his thought.

“The rest of that sentence is ‘to raise a child,’ Pete, so if we’re talking about you, then yes, I understand what you’re saying.”

He just smiled while he chewed open-mouthed, giving her a nice view, to which she covered her eyes and punched him light-heartedly.

“Yeah, well. You know the drill.” Pete moved around and sat on the couch with Steve, pulling out his laptop while Steve looked for something to watch on tv. “Breakfast in the morning?”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty tired, and Helena might just want to stay in bed too.”

“Mykes, when I said morning, I meant like 11. I’m not getting up at the crack of dawn just because you’re back.”

Steve looked over his shoulder to share a look with Myka. Sometimes she felt like they were Pete’s parents. But thank God for him. Thank God for good friends.

\------------------------------

The days went on, each one slightly better than the one before. It had been the right decision for Helena to come back. She knew that. At the time, all she had wanted to do was surround herself with the memories of her father. But she knew what that really meant was surrounding herself with the memories she would never have because he left too soon.

Here, she had friends. She had Steve, who would gladly sit or take silent walks together. He had even offered her a few books on meditation which she took without outwardly mocking the idea. She had Claudia, who caught her up with goings-on over in the science building, including the fact that one of the groups in their robotics class had started a fire during the lab that she missed. And then there was Pete.

Pete was always good for a distraction and had given her some surprisingly good comic books, so they even had those to talk about. She would never have thought herself a comic book person. Though she would never have thought herself a Pete person either, but he understood what she was going through more than the others. They had never spoken about his father one-on-one, though Myka had mentioned it. More than a few times since they had returned from England, in fact. Her intention was not lost on Helena. And Myka was right, there was solidarity in stupid, senseless loss. On the days when she started to feel the anxiety, the itch to get away, on the days when she felt like she was letting herself sink back into dark, she knew that she shouldn’t be alone. So she sought out Pete.

She had been sitting on the floor in his room, leafing through his copy of Watchmen on one of those day.

“Stop! H.G.! You’re gonna spoil it! Just read it from the beginning!”

“Sometimes I like seeing how things are going to end before I start them.”

“Why? Why would you do that?! The suspense! The drama!” Pete jumped from his chair and stood over Helena, acting it out.

“Things hurt less when you know that they’re coming.”

Gut punch.

“Ah. Right. Yeah.” Pete awkwardly stood above her until Helena continued to flip through and settled on the last handful of pages. He couldn’t stand it. He put his hand over the page and continued talking. “While, I totally get that… I’d say in this case… you should just read the story. The surprise could be a good surprise. I mean, it’s actually not really a good surprise, it’s kind of awful, but it’s good in a ‘Didn’t see that coming, amazeballs!’ kinda way.”

Helena looked up from the book, forehead scrunched.

“Amazeballs?”

“Yes. It is totally amazeballs, H.G.”  

“Don’t let Myka catch you calling me H.G. Next time, she’s gonna do more than just punch you.”

“She threatened to drop a dictionary on my crotch once.”

A few days later Helena returned "Watchmen" to Pete, having read it straight-through, only stopping for class and work and homework. Myka had been happy to see her so engrossed in something.

“So, whadya think?”

Helena shook her head. “You didn’t see that coming, Pete? You truly didn’t see that coming? It was telegraphed through the whole thing.”

“Oh, come on! You didn’t like it?!”

“Oh no, I liked it very much. It was, in fact, ‘amazeballs.’”

“Knew it!”

He turned back to put the book on his shelf and she stayed at the door. “Thank you, Pete.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, you can take whatever you want, that’s why they’re here.”

“No, I meant…” What did she mean? Was she thanking him for being supportive without being pushy? Was she thanking him for distracting her from her own brain? Or was she thanking him for having lost too? He turned back and saw her struggling.

“I get it… No sweat. I just, uh…” Talking was easy for Pete until the words really mattered. “I just want you to know that it doesn’t go away. But it dulls. With the good stuff. And there’s plenty of good stuff. Liiiiike…” Pete took a series of comics off of his shelf “the ‘Sandman’ series, READ THEM.”

Another thing that Helena had - school work that didn’t relent just because she had other things to think about. When she had returned, she had fought going back to class. She didn’t want people asking questions or offering condolences. Myka had basically had to get her dressed and walk her all the way to the door of her class to make sure that she actually went. She had felt like a small child being dragged to school for the first time - not wanting to leave the safety of her home and being unwillingly thrown into a hostile environment. But to her surprise, no one really said anything. They were all too focused on their own things. She had gotten behind, so the workload was heavier than usual, which actually gave her plenty to distract herself. Maybe Myka had been right to urge her back into the normalcy.

Though it felt like a stab every time a topic of traumatic brain injury came up. Which was often since she worked with Dr. Frederic so heavily. At least she had finally pared down her work schedule to just assisting in the lab and acting as Dr. Frederic’s office assistant. There were, after all, still bills at home even if they were now coming in at a much less exhaustive rate.

Back to class, back to work, back to life.

It was odd how the world did keep moving and she along with it, however slowly.

\--------------------------------

A number of weeks after they returned, each of the girls were sitting at their desks, doing homework. It almost felt like things were back to normal, at least tonight.

Myka saw the light flashing on her phone, meaning she had an e-mail. It was from Professor Nielsen.

_“Myka,_

_I was hoping to have a response from you about your intentions for the summer by now. I understand that things have been difficult for some time now, but I’d like the opportunity to ask one of your fellow students to assist me on my ‘Decameron’ research if you do not wish to come to Italy. Please respond ASAP._

_Professor Nielsen.”_

Myka remembered the last time she had thought about her summer plans, right before their world had been flipped.

She turned to look at Helena and saw her leaning on her left hand, reading, and typing with her right hand. Why had they never moved their desks so that they could see one another’s faces? If she couldn’t see Helena’s face, she didn’t know if this was a good time to bring up summer plans.

She stopped what she was doing and went to lie down on their bed. The bed Myka used to sleep on had literally just become their second bookshelf at this point. It was currently covered in a number of ‘Sandman’ comics that didn’t fit on their shelves. Helena looked tired, but no more so than usual. And she also looked bored.

“I do not know how many ways one person can say that time-space mappings in the mind are not unidirectional and that memories can’t be trusted, but I’m fairly certain this man has hit the magic number.”

That probably wasn’t the best thing for Helena to be thinking about. When memories are all you have, it seems pretty mean to point out that they’re false. So, maybe it _would_ be all right to talk about the summer.

“Hey, Helena, I just got an e-mail from Professor Nielsen and he wants to know if I’m going to Italy with him this summer.”

Helena snapped her head up to look at Myka.

“I haven’t responded yet. I just wanted to talk to you first.” Helena’s body was becoming visibly tense. “I wanted to know what you thought about it so we can make the decision together, okay?” Myka sat up and took Helena’s hand and the girl relaxed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to respond that way…”

“It’s fine, Helena. Look, I wasn’t planning on going anyway. He had mentioned it in passing. Honestly I thought he was joking, but I’m not sure that he jokes… Anyway. The point is, I wanted to know what you were going to do. And what you wanted me to do.”

“I suppose I hadn’t thought about it much.”

“I know,” She squeezed Helena’s hand, “I know, but it’s getting close and he wants an answer.” Myka looked down. She felt like an ass for bringing this up right now, but Professor Nielsen didn’t much care if it was inconvenient timing. He had work to do.

“I got the internship at MIT.”

Myka stood up. “What? That’s fantastic! Helena that’s amazing.” She tried to pull the girl up to hug her, but Helena resisted.

“I told them no.”

“What?” Myka froze. “I don’t understand… I mean, I know I don’t know a lot about cognitive science, but I’m fairly certain that that’s one of the most competitive internships in the country.”

“Myka? Every reminder just brings it back. I just need a break, okay? I just need to not think about it. I just need to be a person for a little while, instead of the person everyone wants me to be. Okay?”

Myka smiled and gave Helena a reassuring kiss. “Okay.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Warren and Myka get REAL.

_“Hey Mom. Do you think we could talk about this summer? I’m done with class at 4, can you guys Skype tonight?”_

Myka closed her phone and waited for her fellow students to be done talking with Professor Nielsen by starting a second draft of her notes.

“Myka!”

His voice was like the harshest bell in the belfry being rung right in her ear every single time he did that. She would never get used to the way he yelled her name.

“I was expecting to hear back from you yesterday.” He walked out of the room, assumedly expecting her to follow, so she drew all of her belongings in her hands haphazardly, and dashed to catch up.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry about that, I wanted to wait until I saw you in person.”

“And…?”

Oh God, did he always look this scary? Myka had seen him look annoyed or bothered before, but now he kind of looked unhinged. Didn’t he? She must be projecting. _Screw your courage to the sticking-point, right Bering? Wait, no. Maybe not Lady Macbeth. Maybe she’s not the go-to in this situation._

“Myka!” Another clang. She set her things on the only uncovered surface she could find, which unfortunately happened to be the only chair to sit in as well, so she continued to stand.

“Right. Professor Nielsen, while I am honored that you would ask me to assist you on your work, I don’t think I can go to Italy with you.”

There. The words were out. The damage was done and she could stop thinking about it.

“Myka, I’d like to remind you that you are a first year. This is an opportunity that I do not offer to everyone.”

She nodded. She knew that. Of course she knew that. Which is why she hadn’t taken him seriously when he had said it in the first place.

“You are an exceptionally gifted student, I’d like to have you on my team.” No longer clanging, Professor Nielsen was resolute.

Was this an opportunity that she’d never have again? Rationally, she had another three years at this school. Meaning she had another two summers before she graduated wherein she could travel and study. Like he said, no other first years were being offered this chance, it wasn’t like she’d be missing out on much…

Helena told her that she should go. That she should take the trip. But they knew each other well enough at this point to tell when one of them was falling on a sword for the other. And that’s exactly what Helena had been doing. So, they talked about it and talked about it and talked about it and had come to a decision together that didn’t include Italy.

Life was full of hard choices, right? This would just be one of many.

“I will gladly be on your team, Professor Nielsen. But I have to do it from home. I will research and write and study and do whatever you need. And believe me, I want to. I just can’t do it in Italy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You should know that I have a number of students waiting to be asked. This is your only chance to change your mind.”

“I know.” Now it was she who was resolute.  

He nodded his head, conceding to her wishes.

She gathered her things back into her arms and stepped into the hallway, turning back for a moment. She had hoped that Professor Nielsen would have some parting words of acknowledgement. Possibly some advice for how she should be handing the influx of difficult situations that had been thrust before her lately. Maybe even some encouragement to keep moving forward. But he was already sitting at his desk, absorbed in a formidable text. No, this one was on Myka and Myka alone.

She was already second-guessing her choice when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

_“Does 6 o’clock work for you?”_

_“Perfect. Thanks Mom.”_ She put the phone away and started the walk to her next class.

 ----------------------------

Myka checked the time and rushed across campus, realizing she was running late. She had stayed after her class to start preliminary talks about a group project and they had gotten carried away.

She pulled up recent calls and clicked on the first one.

“Hello.”

“Are you in the dorm?”

“I am.”

“My parents are going to Skype me at 6. I don’t want to reschedule because then my dad gets all annoyed, but if they call and you answer, then they’ll have to stay on until I get there.”

“Because they feel sorry for me?” Helena chuckled grimly.

“No, because my dad doesn’t mind being rude to me, but he for some reason minds being rude to perfect strangers.”

“All the more reason to keep me a perfect stranger then, at least for the time being.”

Myka didn’t have the energy for this.

“I’ll be back in like ten minutes,” she huffed impatiently.

“Honestly, I have no idea what I’d say to them, can’t you just reschedule the call?”

“Helena, please. Could you PLEASE do this one, very simple thing for me?” Myka hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she was rushing and running out of breath and didn’t want to keep wasting it having a stupid argument about a Skype call. And flashes of Professor Nielsen’s disappointed face kept interrupting her train of thought.

“Fine. I’ll see you when you get here.” And Helena hung up.

\---------------------------

“That sounds very interesting.” Myka heard her mother’s falsely upbeat voice as she burst into the room, immediately moving to lean over Helena’s shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry guys, I just got caught up in a group discussion.”

Her father was in the background reading while her mother sat in the foreground, now following Myka with her eyes.

“Sure, it’s not like we have things to do or anything.” Myka tried to make eye-contact with Helena, to commiserate over her dad’s sarcasm, but Helena stood up from where she had positioned herself at Myka’s desk, and without looking up, crossed back to the bed.

“Right. Well, thanks for your _patience_ , Dad.” Myka worried that her own lack of patience tonight wasn’t going to set a good foundation for a constructive conversation.

Jean cut in before Warren could respond and unravel the whole thing. “What was it you wanted to talk to us about, sweetie?”

“Any more requests for thousands of dollars?” Jean turned around in her chair and Myka knew well enough what look she was shooting at her husband, even if Myka couldn’t see it. He came and sat next to her with his mouth shut.

Myka inhaled deeply and continued. “Actually, Dad, it’s funny that you mention that,” It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t funny at all, he was being a jerk, “because Helena and I would both very much like to pay you back for that _loan_.”

And that was true, they did. This had been part of their conversation as well. Figuring out a way to pay her father back for his momentary lapse in judgment.

“I told you that I’d come home for the summer, to work in the shop, and that’s still the plan. I’ll work every day. I told Professor Nielsen that I’d do some research for him as well, but other than that, you can use me whenever you want. I plan to pay you back in full.”

“Good.” Warren stood up to walk away.

She rushed the next words. “And Helena would like to do the same. Helena would like to come to Colorado for the summer and work in the store.”

Her father was only half in the frame, but she saw him stop moving. Jean had nothing to say either, she just looked back and forth between the screen and her husband. Myka had no way of knowing that he wasn’t going to react well to this. She had no way of knowing that it was only her mother that had kept him from calling and berating her weeks before. Jean herself actually had no idea what he was going to say. With Myka, he was always such a loose cannon. He turned slowly and returned to his seat in front of the computer.

“Myka, what in the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Even Jean was taken aback at his tone. She put a warning hand on his forearm, which he immediately shrugged off. “Warren…”

“No. Myka, you are nineteen years old. Nineteen! You are basically still a child, yet you’re flying halfway across the world for some _girl_ ” he said girl like it was the worst four-letter word he could get out of his mouth, “some girl, that you barely know, and that I don’t know _at all_ , and now you are expecting me to have her as a guest in MY house for the summer?” He was sitting so still, but Myka could tell he was full of rage.

And it was pissing her off. She was just so angry at him and this day. She was sick of his condescension. Sick of the fact that at every turn he chose to be intransigent, regardless of circumstance or anyone’s feelings other than his own.

Hearing the door open yanked her out of her head and when she turned around, she saw Helena leaving the room. “Stay here, Helena. If you’re going to come home with me for the summer, you should see what he can be like.”

“What I can _be_ like, oh you have….”

“Yes, Dad. What you can be like.” She continued on, “Now, to your first point, yes I am nineteen. Correct me if I’m wrong here, but I’m not, you and Mom started dating when you were our age.”

“Myka, your mother and I have nothing to do…”

“Yes you do. You started dating at this age, and she’s your wife now. If something bad had happened to Mom, even when you were nineteen, even when you _barely knew her_ , as you so lovingly put it, you would have wanted to protect her, right? You would have wanted to take care of her and do everything to make her happy, right?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not, Dad. It’s not. It’s exactly the same. Because she’s the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with too.”

Jean gasped out of surprise. Warren was too stunned to say anything.

“Mom was still the person you were going to marry when you were nineteen, it’s no different. She’s not just _some girl_ , Dad. She’s never just been some girl.” She looked behind her to see if Helena was still in the room. She was, but she was looking at her feet.

“To your second point, I am not _expecting_ you to have us in your house, I am _asking_ you to. If you don’t want us there, I’m sure I could find some place to rent for the summer while we work off our _debt_ to you. Of course, then it would take us longer to pay you back, but if that’s how you want it, then we can do that.”

She had never been this antagonistic with her father. She had always just let him bully her, but she felt a new wave of confidence. It was a good thing he hadn’t been expecting it, because his shock had kept him quiet, for the most part.

When she was finished, she finally looked back at her father and seeing him sent a pang of guilt through her. Of course she was angry with him. He so easily disregarded anyone else’s feelings, especially Myka’s, and now he had dragged Helena into his games. But he was still her dad. She still _wanted_ to be close to him. She wanted for him to be on her side, _their_ side. And even though he had come out of the gate swinging, she thought he looked a little sad at her newfound demonstration of a spine.

“Dad. I’m…” No, she wouldn’t say she was sorry, because she wasn’t. “You said at Christmas that if I was happy, then you were happy.”

“If this is you happy, then maybe I was wrong.”

Myka had to resist yelling at him again.

“Dad, I am _trying_. Can you for once, for _once_. Help me try?”

The silence meant that they were at an impasse.

“All right, well, we’ll find a place to stay then. And don’t worry, we’ll pay for the travel. I wouldn’t want you to have to spend any more money on us.”

Warren walked away without another word.

Jean turned toward her daughter and tried to explain him, like she always did. “Sweetheart, your father…”

“Please stop making excuses for him, Mom.”

Jean nodded her head, “We’ll talk soon.”

And they hung up. Myka turned back to check in on Helena.

“And that’s a Saturday night in the Bering household.” Myka laughed gently. She was tired of playing the strong one.

“Myka, I’m sorry.”

Another deep breath. Keep trying. “It’s funny, I used to be the one to say that all of the time.”

Helena stepped in. “It’s not fair that I dragged you into this, it’s not fair…”

“It’s not, you’re right. But, one of my dad’s favorite phrases is ‘life’s not fair.’ So. There it is. And I didn’t exactly drag you into a bed of roses covered in cotton candy and butterfly kisses.”

Helena formed a mental image of what that might feel like, just as Myka did the same. “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

“No, you’re right, it doesn’t.”

Helena sighed, “You should have just let me break up with you all of those months ago, then at least you’d be free of my mess.” There was that grim chuckle again and it cut into Myka’s core.

“Please don’t say that. Even if you’re joking. Please don’t.”

Helena realized the weight of her words and crossed the rest of the room to Myka. “Oh, darling, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t.”

Myka’s breath hitched. _Darling._ Helena hadn’t called her darling in… well… Myka actually couldn’t remember. Suffice it to say, it had been a while. Helena stood above her, having pulled her hands close.

“I can’t believe you told your parents you’re going to spend the rest of your life with me.” Helena’s smile had turned less grim.

“They were going to figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I wish you would have said it to _me_ first.”

Myka stood in protest. “What? I did! I have! When you…” Myka started to pull back, realizing that she was referencing that time when she had almost lost Helena to her own pain.

Helena grabbed her waist and pulled her up from her chair. “When you saved me, yes, I remember, it wasn’t all too long ago. But you weren’t quite so clear about it then. It’s nice.” She brushed the stray curls from Myka’s forehead, running her fingernails across her scalp. Myka closed her eyes and pushed her head forward, into Helena’s palm, and eventually landed it on Helena’s shoulder.

“I miss you, Helena.”

“I miss me too.”

 They held each other in the middle of the room for a few minutes, Helena playing with Myka’s hair and Myka rubbing circles into Helena’s back.

“You’re very brave, Myka.”

Myka snorted and pulled her head back. “I’m what?”

“I know you don’t see it, but you are. It’s maybe not the first thing I noticed about you,” Helena grinned and Myka rolled her eyes. That story was literally never going to go away now. “But it didn’t take me very long to see it.”

Myka kissed Helena’s temple and made her way over to the closet to pull out some sweatpants.

“Thank you for that, Myka. Thank you for your strength. I… I don’t know what I would have done without it.” Myka turned back to see a genuine, though still somewhat anxious smile on Helena’s face. “I don’t know what I would have done without _you._ ”

“Something tells me you would have been fine, Helena.” She started to undress, trying to downplay the situation.

“Well, my brain tells me that I wouldn’t have been. So thank you.”

Myka just smiled and started to walk back to her desk when Helena stopped her, pulled her close, and kissed her in a way that she hadn’t since before they had gone to England. She pulled back and rested their foreheads on one another. “I mean it, Myka. Thank you for… everything.” They kissed once more, Myka lightly grasping onto Helena belt-loops while Helena lifted the back of Myka’s shirt, grasping onto the bare skin tightly.

“Always, Helena.” She shivered at the girl’s hands on her back and stepped away. “Now, care to join me in the boudoir for some cuddles and light homework?” She asked as she gestured toward the bed.

Helena laughed. “Anything more than cuddles? Maybe a little of that ‘second base’ action that you’re so fond of?”

Myka’s eyes widened, not having expected the playful turn of events. She hadn’t wanted to push things, but it was true, she missed Helena. In every way. “That _I’m_ fond of? You mean that you’re _extremely_  fond of.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

“Yes, fine, if you insist.” Helena started toward the bed when Myka stopped her. “But… homework first.”

Helena rolled her eyes and placed a light kiss on Myka’s lips. “Fine. Homework first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of those chapters with a "false ending." I keep doing that! Ah, well, one more big chunk to go.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we all remember how I used to write fluff.

Pete leapt to his bed after everyone had gone back to trying to play Settlers of Catan after his most recent outburst.

“Hey, this is important!” His shouting and jumping up and down was, in fact, enough to get their attention back.

“Let’s review why Soundwave is the best tv robot of all time.”

A collective eyeroll circled the room, “Oh my god, why is this happening?” Claudia turned back to the coffee table, which was actually just a couple of glorified tv trays they had set up to play games.

“Number one, he sounds cool, number two, he looks cool, number three, his non-robot form is a boom box, number four, he has a PTERODACTYL.”

“Why would a boom box have a pterodactyl?” Myka thought it was a legitimate question.

“And how exactly do robots and dinosaurs exist in the same universe?” Helena was on the same page as Myka.

“Number five…”

“Oh God, there are more?” Steve slumped over onto Liam who laughed. He was the only person listening who had any idea what Pete was talking about, so he was enjoying both sides of the little show.

“Unlike Starscream, who’s all ‘Give me poooower noooow,’” Pete imitated the tinny, robot voice, which made Myka cover her ears, “He is patient and waits for his moment, chooses it, and successfully takes over Decepticon.”

“He sounds like a political genius, Pete, will you please sit down now?” Myka encouraged him to join the circle, but he wasn’t having it.

“NUMBER SIX. He and his cassettes, cause, you know, he’s a BOOM BOX, took out the Destructicon mega bot Devastator within like twenty seconds…”

“Pete! No one knows what you’re talking about!” Claudia stood up and tried to pull Pete off his bed, though he just jumped away from her hand.

“Fine! I’m just saying, there are a bunch more reasons and I’m right.”

“Literally no one was arguing with you.” Claudia gave up and rejoined the circle.

“And I don’t want to play anymore! Myka keeps putting the robber on all my stuff and setting up her roads so Helena can win!”

“I am not!”

She was.

She peered at Helena from the side of her eye and saw that the girl had a small grin on her face. Obviously she too had figured out that Myka was trying to strategize in her favor. Not that Helena needed the help. But, just for extra insurance.

Her eyes flicked down and she noticed that Helena’s right hand was clinging to the edge of the sweater Myka was wearing that was loosely pooled between the two of them. Helena did this now. Whenever Myka was next to her, she would instinctively make sure she was tethered to some part of her, even if it was just the edge of her clothing. Having a grasp on anything connected to Myka was Helena’s own form of extra insurance. Insurance that Myka was there and real and not going anywhere.

Every time Myka noticed Helena holding on to her, she all at once felt special, like she was the linchpin in Helena’s life, and guilty. Guilty for feeling triumphant about something that was obviously keeping Helena from being whole.

They hadn’t much talked about Helena’s fears in the passing months, but Myka knew they were there. They made themselves known periodically. When Helena would say Myka’s name across the room and Myka wouldn’t respond right away. When they hadn’t seen each other for most of the day and Myka was too busy to check in. When Myka got out of bed before Helena was awake. There were flashes of fear. The flashes didn’t always appear, but when they did, Myka noticed them. She saw the subtle tensing of Helena’s jaw and the quick jerk of her neck. She heard the extra air behind Helena’s words, as if she had been holding her breath until it spilled out, all at once.

“Pete, if you finish this game, you can pick the next one.” Steve offered, ever the diplomat.

“NO!” Everyone else in the room started talking over one another.

“He’ll make us play that stupid version of _Scene It?_ where it’s all sports clips!”  
“I swear to God, if you try to play Celebrity with him, he will fill the hat with comic book characters and then pretend he didn’t.”  
“I’m fairly certain Pete’s favorite game is just to see how many croissants he can fit in his mouth at once. I’d rather not be exposed to that for a second time, if at all possible.”

“Jeez, thanks guys, I love you too.” Pete stopped jumping up and down, looking dejected.

They all immediately felt guilty for coming down so hard on him and Myka was the first to speak up. “Pete, we were kidding! We….” she looked around at everyone for reassurance. “We’ll play whatever you want to play, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Still standing on the bed, he turned toward the wall with his hands on his hips. Was he… was he crying? For a tense moment they thought that Pete was going to walk out on them.

Until he jumped down from his bed pointing his finger at the lot of them. “Haha, suckers! That’s what you get for being jerks. Now you’re all gonna watch me play Skyrim!”

Steve lunged for the Playstation at the same time that Myka and Claudia went for Pete, all three landing on the ground with a soft thud and peals of laughter filling the room.

They were all finished with finals and most of them would be moving out of the dorms the following morning, so nearly their entire day had been spent together. Pete would be starting his internship with the Cleveland Field Office for the Secret Service, Steve, his own with the ATF Field Office in Trenton, Claudia was spending her summer in Switzerland with her older brother, and Liam was going home to intern in his dad’s law office where he worked as a criminal defense lawyer, an irony that Liam found funny, since he planned to go into law enforcement.

At least someone else was going to have a summer full of family time other than Myka. She had spoken to her mother not long after their all-too-honest Skype conversation. Jean told her that they didn’t need to look for a place to stay – she could stay in her bedroom and Helena, the guest bedroom. Her mother had been quick to point out that her father was the one who thought it best they stay at the Bering home. Of course, even if he had actually said that, which Myka didn’t even truly believe, he couldn’t have called to tell her himself. The man ran more hot and cold than the showers across the hall.

After they had exhausted the shelf of games in Steve and Pete’s room and Pete had, in fact, begun to play Skyrim, they decided to call it a night. Hugs and punches were shared before Steve and Liam returned to Liam’s single (how he had gotten a single as a first year was still one of Pete’s enduring questions) and Claudia to her dorm.

“To get across campus without running into any drunken frat boys… it shall be the challenge of a lifetime. Wish me luck, kind friends.” Claudia dramatically put her hand forward as if she were marching into battle and disappeared around the corner.

And then there were three. Neither of the girls were really ready to say goodbye to Pete, nor he to them. Theirs was a bond formed out of strange circumstance, but he had become like a brother to both of them, in their own ways.

“So… you guys gonna come visit me at my fancy job? Bet I can introduce you to the President!”

“It’s Cleveland, Pete, I highly doubt the President is going to be making any appearances in your office.” Myka grinned.

“Hey, hey, hey, now, I hope that’s not you knocking the Rock and Roll Capital of the World and my lovely hometown.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Pete and Myka chuckled until the hallway was silent. As he moved to pick the conversation up again, Helena quickly put one arm around his shoulder and the other around his mid-section and pulled him into a hug. He caught Myka’s eyes behind Helena’s back and she looked as surprised as he felt. After a moment, he tightened his arms around Helena and gave a firm squeeze.

When she released him, she stepped back and waited for Myka and Pete to say goodbye, which they did, Myka assuring Pete that they would call and Skype regularly and it wasn’t actually that long until they’d be back for fall semester. He nodded his head, putting on a front, but Myka could tell how sad he was. It was almost funny to her – she had found these two people, two people who she never would have thought would even give her the time of day, and now she felt closer to them than anyone else. And somehow, _she_ was their port in the storm. _She_ was the calm sea for both of them.

She gave Pete a quick kiss on the cheek, “See you soon, Lattimer.” He beamed back at her before they too disappeared around the corner.

Myka and Helena had packed themselves into just a few suitcases. Mrs. Lattimer had agreed to store most of their things in her basement, so they would be able to travel lightly. It had pained Helena to pack up all of their books. Myka remembered hearing her coo over their texts and had responded by laughing and playfully reminding Helena that they were going to work in a _bookstore_. And it wasn’t a very busy bookstore. There would be plenty of time to read.

After they settled themselves into their seats on the plane, Helena rested her head on Myka’s shoulder and entwined their fingers.

“I wonder if my dad’s gonna be there at the airport when we land…”

“Have you spoken recently?”

Myka shook her head, which shook Helena’s resting head along with it and she kissed her hairline in apology. Helena nudged her with her own shoulder so she would lift her arm and burrowed in more tightly.

“Well, I suppose if he is, that’s a good thing because he wants to see you. If he isn’t, that is also a good thing, because you won’t be anxious about it. Correct?”

“Excellent use of conditional reasoning, Wells.” Myka teased Helena. “But it unfortunately doesn’t keep me from being anxious on the plane.”

Helena leaned forward, reaching into her carry-on, “Lucky for you, I seem to have some stowaways.” She pulled out a stack full of books and set them on her lap - none too large, but still, more than Myka would have expected.

“Helena! I told you not to bring these!”

“Darling, I simply couldn’t leave _all_ of them there. And knowing the way you read, you’ll need every single one for the plane ride anyway.”

Myka narrowed her eyes and tilted her head while Helena looked back, politely waiting for Myka to respond.

“If you don’t want any of them, I can just put them back in the bag…” Myka wordlessly, and without taking her eyes off of Helena, took a book from the middle of the stack. She then stuck her tongue out before turning her attention to the words in front of her.

“Just to clarify, that rather childish display means I won this argument, yes?”

Myka ignored the statement completely. Which meant that yes, yes she did.

\----------------------------------------

When the plane landed, Myka felt her nerves surge up again. Would Warren Bering choose to come to the airport to pick the girls up? Could they put the latest of their disagreements behind them?

Myka rushed toward baggage claim, just wanting to know one way or the other.

And the moment of truth came quickly. No dad. No mom for that matter.

Tracy was standing by baggage claim when they made their descent down the escalator. Myka saw her sister twirling her key-ring, looking around absent-mindedly until she saw them. Her already-enormous eyes got even wider and her mouth opened slightly. Myka looked down at her clothes to see if she looked strange. “Does my hair look weird?” she asked Helena.

“What? No, it’s as rambunctious and lovely as ever.” Helena put a hand to said hair, gave it a quick pat-down, and finished her action with a kiss to Myka’s lips. When Myka looked back at her sister, her mouth was hanging wide open.

Oh. Right. That. That was what Tracy was staring at.

When they reached the floor, Myka introduced Helena and Tracy and the two exchanged pleasentries, though Tracy never did seem to pull herself together to act like a human being.

“I’ll go wait for our luggage, let you catch up.” Helena tugged on Myka’s belt loop before she walked away. Both of the Bering girls followed her with their eyes until she turned back, giving them an awkward wave, which snapped them out of their haze.

“Tracy, what the hell?” Myka stood so that her back was to Helena, placing her hands on her hips, and giving Tracy her very best older-sister staredown.

“Myka. How? HOW? Did you get a girlfriend that hot?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, say thank you, and move on.” Myka crossed her arms, “Where are Mom and Dad?”

“I don’t know, they called me like an hour ago… they were planning on coming to get you, but Mom said something about an acquisition… I don’t know, I wasn’t listening, they just told me to come get you.” She was barely paying attention to Myka and was staring at Helena again.

“Oh my God,” Myka rolled her eyes and joined Helena at the luggage carousel, When she settled, she had her arms crossed and her lower lip pulled in so only her top lip was showing. Patented “I’m annoyed right now” Myka stance.

“Myka, what’s wrong?” Helena questioned.

“Nothing, it’s fine, my sister just has a crush on you. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh,” Helena grinned slyly, “I’m two for two then, very good.” Myka begrudgingly smiled back at Helena. She hadn’t seen that distinct Helena Wells ego in quite some time. It didn’t mean she wasn’t still kind of annoyed.

“Yes, you’re very likable, I’m aware. But Tracy’s easy. You haven’t had to talk to my dad yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” Another sly grin.

Their bags came around the carousel and they each pulled one off of the belt before following Tracy to her car.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I ask myself "How did this chapter get so long?"

Tracy parked the car along the street in front of the bookstore and walked inside without even offering to help bring in their bags. She did, at least, leave the door open for them. They walked toward it and Myka noticed the picture behind the building - the sun was resting over top clouds, surrounded by a rutilant haze that was politely waiting to envelop the orb. She had forgotten how beautiful the sunsets were at home, especially in the summer. Is it possible that she missed this place?

“Happy to be home, darling?” Myka must have been staring off, which prompted Helena’s question.

Myka’s lips ticked upward for a moment, “I guess I’ve missed some things, yes.” Helena tried to smile back, but couldn’t quite manage it. This wasn’t her home. She didn’t exactly have one of those anymore, it seemed. It was all unfamiliar and, while in the past that had seemed exciting to Helena, in this very moment, it set her on edge.

Myka held her hand out expectantly, “You ready?”

A quick nod and a squeeze of her hand in response and they approached the doorway. Myka tried to walk toward the flight of stairs to leave their things in their bedrooms, but Helena yanked her back.

“What?” Myka’s pulse quickened, “What’s wrong?”

“Myka…” Helena’s eyes were wide, moving reverently from one aisle to the next. She took a deep breath and let it go silently. “Did you really grow up here?”

Myka quickly looked around herself, “Well, yeah. Upstairs, but yeah.”

“How did you ever manage to get anything done? Look at this…” Helena let go of Myka’s hand and approached a florid mahogany cabinet that kept a number of first editions illuminated, on display, and under lock and key.

“Yeah, that’s where my parents keep the collectors’ items they buy and sell. They’re mostly what keep the store in the black. Mom and pop bookshops aren’t really a cash cow, but they do well with those.” Myka explained while looking up the stairs to see if her parents were moving about. All she could hear was the sound of a muted pop song coming from behind Tracy’s closed door. When she turned back, Helena was gaping at her.

“Myka, there is a first edition of _Fahrenheit 451_ in here.”

Myka crossed to look at the copy herself, “Oh, they must have gotten that recently, I wonder if it’s inscribed or not…” She began examining the copy through the glass.

“How are you so calm about this? It’s remarkable!” Helena nearly shouted the words incredulously.

“It’s nice to hear that _someone_ appreciates my work.”

Both Myka and Helena’s heads snapped toward the front door, where Mr. and Mrs. Bering were standing, holding a number of leather-bound books sealed tightly in plastic bags. Myka didn’t respond to her father’s voice right away. She had prepared herself for the eventual meeting face-to-face. She had run through every scenario of what might happen when she saw him again. Would he pretend like their conversation hadn’t happened? After all, it _had_ been a few months ago. But he knew how to hold a grudge… Would he pick up where they had left off and start lecturing her about her lack of experience? Would he passive-aggressively throw in digs about her relationship status or point out how much, exactly, their trip had cost him? She had prepared a response no matter what version of Warren Bering greeted them. And yet this, this sudden and abrupt appearance of her parents, she had not been ready for. She was off her guard. Again. Helena noticed her hesitation and approached Myka’s parents herself.

“I’m afraid I _was_ coveting your collection. Myka had spoken highly of it,” she hadn’t, “but I am still quite impressed.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s lived up to your standards.” Warren began to walk past the girls when Helena stepped in front of him and put her hand forward to shake his.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I am, of course, Helena and I want to thank you so much for your kindness in the past few months. It has meant a great deal to me. I apologize if I’ve seemed rude for not thanking you before tonight, but I intend to make that up to you. Both of you. Myka has told me how wonderful it is to work here,” she also hadn’t said that, “and I couldn’t be more delighted to be sharing the summer with you all.”

Warren scoffed in response, but before he could give a true riposte, Helena continued on.

“I’d be happy to carry those for you, if you’d like.”

It seemed that Helena was impervious to Warren’s churlish demeanor. If she kept this up, Myka didn’t know what her father would do. He always expected a response when he antagonized people. If Helena refused to acknowledge it, then he couldn’t pick a fight with her. He couldn’t make her look bad. Myka dipped her head and grinned. Of _course_ Helena would be good at interacting with him. She had worried when they originally agreed to spend the summer in Colorado with her family. Partially because she wasn’t interested in going home herself and partially because she had thought Helena too vulnerable. She had felt like she would be leading an injured zebra straight into a pride of lions.

But no, even at her worst, Helena was so much more capable than that. So much more perceptive than that. She could read people like they were the books in this very shop. She had done it to Myka too, though in that case, it had come from a place of genuine interest in the girl. Here, _now_ , Myka knew that Helena wanted to win the game. Helena wanted to win the game for Myka.

“I think I can manage them on my own.” Helena smiled at him as he walked up the stairs and Myka was certain she heard him muttering to himself, though she couldn’t make out the words.

“What about you, Mrs. Bering? Do you need any help?”

Jean smiled back at the girl, “Actually, yes, could you hold these for just a minute?” Helena took the sealed books from her hands and Jean turned to her daughter, hugging her tightly without giving Myka's arms the freedom to hug back.

“I’m so glad you’re home, sweetie.” After a kiss to Myka’s cheek, she turned to Helena and gave her a hug as well. “Helena, welcome to our home. We’re happy to have you.” She took the bags back out of Helena’s hands. “Your father and I have some work we need to get done with these new books. There are leftovers in the refrigerator, or you can order something. I’m sorry I didn’t have dinner ready for you, today was all very unexpected. Just let me know what you decide.” She laughed nervously and went up the stairs as well.

“Be up in a bit, Mom.” When Jean was out of earshot, Myka swiveled around to face Helena, playfully backhanding her forearm. “Well, that was well played.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” Helena went back and grabbed both of their suitcases that were still sitting in the middle of the room and rolled them over to the stairs. She busied herself with their things as Myka continued to watch her.

“You know what I mean.” Myka drew the words out, acting as if she were in on some secret, as she picked up her own bag.

“I don’t. Which way is the guest bedroom?”

Myka squinted her eyes and waited one last time for Helena to acknowledge her duplicity. “Fine, it’s up the stairs, to your left, the door all the way at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you very much.”

Myka followed Helena upstairs as well. Her bedroom was right next door to the guest room, so she let Helena get settled while she unpacked. Her room, window facing right out to that sunset, was the same as she had left it after winter break, though it looked like her mother had put new sheets on the bed and dusted the knick-knacks, trophies, and medals around the room. She opened her suitcase and began to unpack into her now empty drawers. It was strange to be coming back to this place - it being the same, and she being so very different. She had felt that at Christmas as well, but when she was home then she didn’t even bother unpacking the suitcase, reminding herself that she would be going back to her new life quickly. But this time, she had brought her new life with her.

She heard a sigh behind her and turned to see Helena leaning against the doorway, watching her.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Marveling at its beauty, yes.”

Myka shook her head and returned to her suitcase. “You’re such a sap sometimes.”

“I prefer the term romantic.” She crossed to Myka’s bed and sat, leaning her back against the pillow and the corner where the walls of the room met.

“The guest room is nice.” Myka hummed in agreement and continued to organize her things.

“Myka, can I…" she faltered, but came back more resolute. "Can I sleep in here with you instead of in the guest room?”

Myka laughed and her eyes went wide. “There is no way my dad will let us sleep in the same bed. Can you imagine even asking him?”

Helena scooted toward the foot of the bed so she was closer to Myka, and her hands were clasped tightly around that frog Myka had seen in her bedroom in England. She hadn't noticed that she had it with her until then. 

“I know, I know that. I’m not asking to sleep with you so we can _do_ anything. We can even move a second bed in here. I just…”

When she hesitated again, Myka crossed to sit next to her on the bed.

“I just need to hear you breathing. I need to feel that thing that you do as you’re falling asleep."

“What thing?”

Helena looked down and grinned, relaxing her hold on her stuffed animal. “You… twitch. Like your brain’s trying to convince you to stay awake, but your body won’t agree to it.”

“I didn’t know I did that...”

“You wouldn’t, you always fall asleep right after.” Helena chuckled while Myka tried to imagine this habit she didn’t even know she had.

“I get anxious when you’re not next to me.”

The honesty of Helena actually acknowledging the root of it brought Myka closer to her. She cradled Helena’s cheek in her hand and kissed her palm. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

Helena nodded, “Yes, I know, but, try as I might, I can’t quite convince myself of it.”

“Well… my parents tend to go to bed around eleven. I suppose one of us could sneak into the other’s room?” She was thinking how it might actually work, “Although my mom wakes up pretty easily… What if she came to check on me and found you in bed too?”

“I think she’d probably find two clothed individuals who just happen to be asleep in the vicinity of one another and  she would realize that our need for one another outweighed your desire to follow the rules.” It was a convincing enough argument.

Myka flopped down and landed on her pillow, her body feeling more tired than she had realized. Maybe it was the time change. "Well it's not like my desire to follow the rules has gotten me anywhere, so I don’t think it would matter much if I broke them…” She turned onto her side, “He didn't even speak to me, Helena."

Helena nodded, running her fingers up and down Myka’s leg. "Your father is a very interesting man. He reminds me of my own after the accident." At the mention of her father, Myka visibly tensed, but Helena grasped her thigh, reassuring her that she was fine. It was okay to talk about him. "The only difference is mine didn't have the capacity for rationality anymore. There was no reason for his outbursts, they simply came when they came and then they were over." She looked down at her frog again. "No, your father is much more self-aware. He knows what he's doing." Helena pursed her lips, reviewing the scene in her head once more for any indication of what made Warren so combative.

“Wait a second,” Myka hopped up to her knees "You _did_ know what I was talking about downstairs! You _were_ playing a game with him!"

Helena grinned slyly without verbally acknowledging Myka's observation. "I sincerely appreciate his kindness, and it was, in fact, a kindness. He let me see my father one last time and I mustn't forget that. I just don't necessarily appreciate his lack of kindness toward you."

Myka pulled her back so they were laying down, together this time, on top of the bedspread. She didn't want to talk about her father anymore or analyze his inability to communicate with her, there would be plenty of time for that in the coming months. Myka looked down to find the stuffed frog now comfortably poised between the two of them.

"Where did you get this?"

Helena chuckled, "Where else?"

"Of course." Myka hadn't meant to bring up her father, _again_ , but Helena's attachment to the creature made perfect sense now.

"Do you want to know what I did to this when he gave it to me?" Myka nodded. "Do you see where it's all stitched up on the stomach? Papa had recently told me about _dissections,"_ Myka knew where this was going and snorted back a laugh. "and I wanted to try one of my own out. When my mother found me with the knife she nearly screamed her throat dry, but I explained to her that I wasn't trying to kill the frog, I was studying it, like Papa told me about!" As she went on, she became more animated until Myka was guffawing and even Helena was having trouble controlling her laughter. "Oh, she was furious with him. Of course, I was just disappointed that all I found in the frog was stuffing. When he got home, he sewed it back up and explained that I should always wait until he was there if I wanted to do science experiments. He tried to be stern with me, but I could tell he thought it was funny. And a week later there was a mini-laboratory set up for me in the basement." Once their laughter had died down, they laid in silence for a few moments in which Myka curled into her embrace. Helena closed her eyes, a foreign bulge appearing in her throat.

"Charles was right, wasn't he? There was no hope for me to bring him back, was there?"

Myka began making sounds in argument, but Helena could feel her body going slack... and there was that slight twitch.

"It wasn't my fault. I couldn’t have changed it."

Twitch, twitch.

She knew it would get bigger and then Myka would be asleep. They hadn't yet made a decision about where Helena would sleep, but Helena knew it was useless to try to talk to Myka once she was this far gone. Then there was the light breath on her cheek signaling that the girl was completely out. Helena turned her head to lay a kiss on the sleeping girl's lips, which turned up into a sleepy grin before returning to their slack position.

"Oh Myka Bering, you are a wonder."

She took a final look at her before she grabbed a quilt from the end of the bed and blanketed it over her still body. The sun was fully down now and there was only a faint luminescence from a streetlamp coming in through the window. Helena backed out of the door, shutting it silently. When she turned around, she found Mrs. Bering in the hallway and jumped back toward the door.

"Oh! I’m sorry, you startled me! Myka fell asleep. Must be the jet-lag." They shared a smile and just as Helena went to open the guest room door, Jean began speaking.

"Well, in that case, do you know what you'd like for dinner? We could just order pizza?"

"Oh no, Mrs. Bering, that won't be necessary, I have some food left over from the trip. Do you think, though, that someone would be able to drive me to the supermarket in the morning?”

Jean sighed, “Helena, please don’t think that you have to fend for yourself while you’re here.”

“That’s very gracious of you, Mrs. Bering, but I’d like not to be even more of a burden than I already feel.”

“All right, well if you change your mind, we’ll be in the kitchen. It’s just at the other end of the hall.”

Helena nodded her head and went back into the guest room where she immediately crossed to her backpack that sat on the chair facing the desk and opened it to take out her books and notebooks. She had brought along notes from Dr. Frederic who had given them to her _just in case_. Just in case she felt like keeping up on the continuation of their research. “The trials with new patients, the findings coming in, and so on” as she had been told. She skimmed through them before changing her mind completely and walking to the kitchen.

It had only been a few minutes since Helena and Mrs. Bering had parted and Helena found her, along with Tracy, looking at coupons and discussing what kind of pizza to order. They looked up when she came into the room.

“Actually, Mrs. Bering, I would like to have dinner with you. If that would be all right.”

“It would be more than all right.” Tracy nodded her head vigorously while her mother spoke. “Why don’t you just come help us pick something out, none of us can ever decide on anything together.”

\-----------------------------

“Well the field is wide open for me, really. I’ll have the option of continuing my studies in any number of specific topics after I graduate.” Myka’s mother and sister had become very interested in exactly what it was that Helena was studying and so she had spent a great deal of their meal together talking about her background and how exactly it was that she ended up in Cleveland, of all places.

Up until this point, Warren had been sitting in the seat closest to the door, eating his food quietly, but not outwardly paying attention. He had a bundle of research material in front from the acquisition that he was reviewing.

“I assumed you were studying literature. You seemed pretty interested downstairs. And Myka,” Warren cleared his throat. Helena wasn’t sure if it was intentionally a slight to his daughter or not, “you got her that book of H.G. Wells stories at Christmas?” He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

“Ah, yes, that was more of a joke, actually.” They all looked more or less confused. “Joke isn’t the right word. Regardless, I wanted to be in the sciences… like my father.”

They all suddenly went back to their food and, for the second time since she had been in the house, Helena had to assure members of the Bering family that she was okay.

“He was a research scientist, and so he taught me a lot of what I know. My mother is an English teacher, so my love of literature mostly comes from her.” Mrs. Bering and Tracy both began to ask her more questions, Jeannie asking about her mother and Tracy asking about how she got her hair to be so shiny. It was charming and lovely and Helena was pleased that they were all getting along better than Myka could have possibly hoped. Just as Helena thought of her girlfriend, Myka stepped into the kitchen doorway, bleary-eyed and having changed into pajamas. Before she said anything though, Warren spoke up again.

“I followed in my father’s footsteps too."

Everyone quieted down to listen to what he had to say and Myka stopped behind him, so Warren still hadn’t seen her enter the room.

“He, uh…” he cleared his throat again, “I was the oldest of the kids and when he got sick, well, I basically took over.”

Myka’s father _never_ talked about his childhood. Well, he certainly hadn’t to his own children, so this was the first that Myka or Tracy were hearing about this. He looked like he was seeing it all happen right in front of him. He didn’t notice his rapt audience, only the people he was remembering.

“Mama couldn’t handle it on her own. Raising three kids without anyone’s help. So I had to step in. I wanted to go to college, study the classics, but she needed me. Eventually, the store folded anyway. She remarried and I moved out here. No reason but to get away. Wandering until I met Jeannie, and the rest, as they say, well. You know.” He finally noticed everyone in the room was focused on him and cleared his throat one last time before he returned his attention to his papers.

“Ya know, I’d better go finish reading these before the meeting with Jim tomorrow.” He put his plate in the sink and turned toward the doorway where Myka was still standing, completely frozen, gawking at him. His face softened at her appearance before quickly shuttering itself up again behind a mask of sternness.

“Could you move, please?” Myka wordlessly stepped into the room and out of his way before he traipsed off and shut the door to his bedroom loudly.

At the noise, Jeannie set her plate in the sink as well. “Girls, would you mind cleaning this all up before you head to bed?” She didn’t wait for an answer, kissed Myka on the cheek, and followed her husband into the bedroom.

“Whoa.” Tracy looked over at Helena. “Seventeen years, I’ve never heard him talk about that and you’re here for, what, three hours and he’s spilling his guts? What’s that about?

Helena looked down, running the tablecloth through her fingers absentmindedly, “I couldn’t say.” Though she probably had a good idea of what it was.

“That was weird.” Tracy looked up at her sister, “You look like a mess.”

“Thanks Trace.” Myka hadn’t yet moved from her spot near the door. She was alternating between looking at the closed door of her parents’ bedroom and Helena, at the table. 

“I’ll do the dishes if you guys put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and take the garbage out.”

“Yeah, whatever…” Myka was still processing. Any time she had ever tried to ask her dad about his family, about where he came from, his lips had been sealed tight. Her mother had filled in some of the gaps for her when she had to do family tree projects, but it was still mostly a mystery to her. She hadn’t even known that he, like Helena, and Pete for that matter, was young when his father died. Though now that she heard it out loud, it made sense.  

Myka ate silently while Tracy did the dishes, once again catching Myka up on gossip that she didn’t care about in the least. Helena gathered all of the cardboard boxes and Tracy showed her where their garbage cans and recycling bins were, directly out the back door.

When Tracy had eventually tired of trying to make the girls care about her high school exploits, she went to bed, leaving them alone at the kitchen table.

“When did I fall asleep?”

“Oh, a little while after I told you about the frog.”

“Right.” Myka chuckled at the memory of the story. “Did I twitch?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Riiiight.” Myka’s head began to dip and her eyelids were fluttering closed.

“Darling, I think you should go back to bed.” Helena tugged a reluctant and overly-tired Myka out of her seat and led her to her door, turning her so that they were facing one another. “And this is where we say goodnight.”

“You don’t have to sneak in, they’re probably in there for the night.” Myka whispered it, though her voice carried more than she realized, so Helena put her hand across the girl’s mouth while grinning wide and shook her head.

“No, Myka, I think I should stay in the guest room and you stay in your room. At least for tonight.”

Myka looked crestfallen. “Really? You got my hopes up earlier.”

“Let’s just try it tonight, okay? If I change my mind, if it’s too hard, I’ll come over.”

“You’ll use your ninja skills so you don’t even wake me up?”

“Unless you want to be woken up.”

“That depends on _why_ you wake me up.” Myka grinned once more and Helena almost followed her into her room, but she truly did want to try this alone. More than anything, she just needed to know if she could.

“All right, go to bed.” She peeled the girl off of her and opened the bedroom door, leading her to lay back down. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Helena.”

“Good night, Myka.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the summer begins to unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got really tired near the end. So, if there are mistakes, my apologies! Hope you're all still with me!

A slamming door followed by hefty footsteps in the hallway awoke Myka, more aggressively than she would have liked. She was still shrouded in darkness, having huddled her head under her quilt at some point during the night. Had her alarm gone off? Had she even remembered to set an alarm? Checking the time, still with only one eye open, she saw that it was well after 8 o’clock, far later than she expected, meaning the shop would be opening soon.

She peeked out of her room to look down the hall, following the sound of chairs shifting and Mrs. Bering asking Tracy to hand her a serving spoon. Helena was already sitting at the kitchen table, dressed and ready for the day. She was looking over a form with Myka’s dad - assumedly he was already handing out tasks. Quickly, she grabbed some clothes from her suitcase, a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt seemed easiest, and threw them on. She had apparently been too tired to even finish the simple mission of getting everything put away. She hurried out into the hallway, carrying her toiletries to the bathroom next door to her own room, hoping no one would notice that she was rushing around. Why hadn’t Helena woken her?

She managed to calm her hair into a braid and dab a little bit of makeup on to make herself presentable for customers. At least presentable by her dad’s estimations. She didn’t care much, one way or the other. By the time she walked into the kitchen, the rest of the family was already eating around the table.

“Sleeping Beauty has finally arrived.” Her father, of course, pointing out that, once again, Myka was anything but perfect. She bit down and noticed her fingers instinctively start to curl up. But when she shot him a look, he had gone back to reviewing things with Helena. And he was almost smiling. His tone with her was not nearly as brusque as usual.

Had he been teasing her? Like teasing her in a friendly way rather than in a hostile way?

Her mother set a plate down in front of the chair next to Helena, who then pulled the chair out, flashing her a quick wink and focusing her concentration back on the form. From the moment she sat down, Myka tried to get Helena’s attention, tapping her fingers rhythmically as if Helena’s wrist was a telegraph and Myka’s sole responsibility was to relay urgent messages through it. But the girl was paying complete attention to Mr. Bering’s instructions - he wanted her to familiarize herself with the new acquisitions and reach out to some of their clients from around the country to see if any of them had any interest in the texts. Even when Myka sped up the tapping and began to nudge Helena’s whole body with her own, the girl waved her off. Helena was obviously irritated but that only served to make Myka want to continue - when Helena was annoyed, she would tighten her lips and run her hands through her hair, two of Myka’s favorite things on the planet. It really was counterproductive, Myka thought, but she wasn’t about to tell Helena, because then she would stop doing it.

They finished breakfast and Tracy left for Saturday morning tennis practice, her parents accompanying her downstairs. When they were all finally out of earshot, Myka grabbed an unsuspecting Helena from the top stair and pulled her down the hallway. She made a sound of protestation, but mostly because her balance was lost in the quick turn and she was lucky to not have ended up hitting her head squarely on the wall. As Myka shut the door, Helena pulled her arm back and massaged her wrist. “Myka, what has gotten into you?”

“You didn’t come in last night.”

Helena stopped massaging her wrist, and tightened her lips once more. But this time, she tightened them into a smirk, and not a grimace. “No, I didn’t.”

Myka starting hopping around excitedly. Helena put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “You’re that happy to have not spent the night with me?”

“Are you okay? Was it all right? Did you get any sleep?”

“I’m fine, Myka. I promise. You can stop spending the majority of your waking moments worrying about me. You have more important things to do in the world.” Her words were deliberate. But, deliberate and true, Myka saw that. And if Helena said she was okay, then Myka had to believe it. She owed her that.

Helena continued, taking Myka’s hand and opening the door to head downstairs, “Although, I must say, I might tire of sharing a wall with your sister. Her musical taste is a bit suspect.”

“Her taste in most things is suspect.” Helena returned to her mock offense, gasping in shock and replacing her hand over her breast. Myka rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorway and pulling Helena toward her once more. “Except for you, of course. She’s right about you.”

“Yes, I rather thought so.”  

Myka’s lean put them on a level plane, so Helena barely had to move before their lips and their stomachs and their hands and the rest of their body parts for that matter were matched perfectly. The authenticity that enveloped them in that moment was enriched with the desperate need of each to fill the other with calm and love and the willingness to be.

"No, but seriously, _what_ is the last two days? What is happening in this house?"

Tracy's voice pulled the girls mouths away from one another, though they were still leaned together looking like a Matisse sculpture, all smooth lines and melded forms. Her sister was once again gaping at them.

"Don't you have tennis?"

"I forgot my tennis shoes in my room, but apparently I need to announce my presence any time I’m walking through the house for the rest of the summer. I love you and all, but I don't need to see you making out. Like ever. Ever ever. Cause gross."

And no sister in her right mind needs any more of an excuse to do something than having _her_ sister explicitly tell her not to. It is the cardinal rule of being a sister. Myka placed her hands squarely on Helena’s cheeks and brought their lips together once more - this time it was less authentic, more silly. Helena played along, both girls trying not to laugh through the sibling antagonism.

“You are the worst.” Tracy pushed past them into her room and after she had retrieved her bloomers, she slammed the door and rushed past them down the stairs, leaving “You could actually just GET A ROOM as you’re STANDING IN YOUR OWN DOORWAY.” in her wake.

“That _is_ going to be fun, isn’t it?” Helena said over Myka’s squeals of delight.

“We’ll have to try it with Charles the next time we see him.”

“Oh, I can only imagine…” Helena scrunched up her face, almost recreating Charles’ weasel-like grimace, keeping her voice level and unamused. “Helena, do take your conquests elsewhere, I have very important things to do and say.”

Myka chuckle-sighed and pushed off from the wall. “Your brother already hates me, we don’t need to make it worse.”

Helena shook her head as she led them both back to the stairs. “He doesn’t hate you. I talked to him a few days ago, he asked after you.”  

“You did? He did?” Myka was honestly alarmed. Anytime she had said hello to him on Skype calls since they left England he greeted her with a churlish grin and little else.

“Myka! Helena! If you’re going to work, come down here and work!” His voice interrupted their conversation, a coarse reminder that just because they were done with school for the year, it didn’t mean that they had any time to just spend together. One of these days, they were going to actually enjoy one another’s company free from school and work and the stress that had eclipsed the last nine months.  

“Nothing like the Bering Bellow.”

Myka dragged her feet, scratching at the carpet running down the stairs.

“The Bering Bellow… I like that.” Helena was following, their footsteps in tandem and her hands firmly on Myka’s waist, pushing her along. “I’m going to use that whenever you’re upset with me.”

“I don’t bellow!” Myka turned on Helena as they reached the back storage room and office where two desks sat facing one another. At least they would be able to see one another, unlike their previous setup at school.

“You’re right, it’s more of a… blare? Or a blast?” She cocked her head to the side, “I am going to have to approach this more thoughtfully.”

Before Myka could respond, her father brought in a file folder overflowing with receipts and shoved it into her hands. “I need them organized by date and type and put into a spreadsheet. Come find me when you’re done.”

After only the slightest of eyerolls (Myka was actually getting rather good at controlling them), they settled into their work silently, Myka organizing  and Helena reading and making notes, the only auditory contribution the crinkling of receipt paper and the tapping of computer keys. It wasn’t until minutes later that something came to Myka, though she kept her attention on the newly-made spreadsheet in front of her.

“The Wells Wail.”

Helena didn’t even look up, “Oh, darling, I don’t wail, you know that.”

“Wallop?”

“That’s a bit closer, I suppose, though I don’t think it’s a very clear choice of word. There must be a thesaurus around here somewhere that you could use.” Helena simpered, still looking at the papers in front of her.

“Yeah, yeah…”

\--------------------------------------

The summer wore on, keeping everyone busy. Bering and Sons was right on the way to the Garden of the Gods, which made it a good summer tourist location and if the business was doing well, Warren and Jean were happy. It seemed that with less stress, and less people availing themselves to his outbursts, Warren had tired of trying to start arguments. He and Myka had yet to have a real discussion since she had been home - she couldn’t help the instinct to avoid him if she could - but she saw subtle differences in him. Not least of which was that he actually contributed to conversations for a change. Myka would see Helena and her father often parsing over a document or some new shipment of books, sharing laughs between the two of them. It was an odd sight, Myka never would have pictured it if she hadn’t seen it herself, but whatever they were bonding over had an effect on everyone. Myka wished he would laugh with _her_ , but Helena was an acceptable alternative.

And her parents were also both happy to have Myka and Helena to ease their workload. Her parents had no idea just how much more they could have gotten out of them, but the girls had both made an art of thoroughly finishing everything they needed to do in the shop while not letting on just how quickly they were able to do it.

Myka stayed in the back office, still trying to avoid the register if at all possible, just as she had in high school, and spent a great deal of time corresponding with Professor Nielsen. The rest of the time, she spent her energy doing her own research on Giovanni Boccaccio’s _On Famous Women_ , which she found wholly more interesting than _The Decameron_. She would, more often than not, make allusions to that in her e-mails to her teacher. As always, he was stern, but still showed his hand that he had an affection for his overzealous student:

_Focus on the material at hand, Ms. Bering. We can research his other texts when we resume classes in the fall. Maybe._

Much like Myka, Helena finished her daily work in record time and moved on to her own studies, which included returning to active participation in Dr. Frederic’s trials. She couldn’t help it. She had gotten the latest update, another failure, and had noticed a grave oversight. The ion blockers that had been tested were hindering neuronal survival, which meant that they were never going to work.  But, if they changed the composition, there might be a way to... She couldn’t simply sit idly by while they kept running futile tests. In this case, she really _did_ have the chance to help fix things. To ignore the opportunity would be a slap in the face to her father’s memory, so she shared her ideas with the team. Dr. Frederic responded in kind:

_Thank you for catching that Ms. Wells. I am glad to hear from you. I hope that you will continue to be an active participant in the future. Proud to have you as a part of my team._

“That sounds awesome! Wouldn’t expect anything less from either of you.”

Pete had called for their weekly chat and they had both caught him up on their research developments. The computer was set up on the kitchen table while Myka and Helena stumbled around the room. There hadn’t been too much to do at the store, it was a Monday and Mondays were always slow, so they offered to make dinner for the family instead. It was, thus far… an ordeal. But Helena had been determined to make beef stew (making a roast beef would have taken way too much effort) and Yorkshire pudding, so Myka followed her instructions as best she could.

When the puddings came out of the oven, Pete interjected over the line, “How is that pudding? That’s not pudding, those are like, muffins or something.”

“Have you never had Yorkshire pudding?”

“Yeah, you know, Ohio eats - corn, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding. Obviously.” They could feel Pete’s sarcasm all the way across the country. “Nah, I’m more of a chocolate pudding guy myself.” Pete patted his stomach like a drum.

Myka chuckled and finished setting the table, “So, how’s the Secret Service this week? Save any heads of state?”

“Mykes, all I do is sit at a desk. I don’t even get to capture any counterfeiters. I process forms, that’s it.”

“So the President hasn’t given you a medal of honor yet?” Helena set the food on the table and just as Pete was about to respond, he was interrupted by the Bering Bellow, Next Generation.

“I’M ANNOUNCING MY PRESENCE SO I DON’T SEE ANYTHING THAT WILL GIVE ME NIGHTMARES.” There was a count of three before Tracy walked in, presumably because the last time she announced herself and barged straight in, she later reported to have said nightmares about what she saw. She stomped into the kitchen, hair wet, shoulders slumped, and threw a gym bag in the corner before falling into her seat. “An eight year old had his birthday party at the pool today. I’m never having kids.”

Myka heard her mother and father discussing something on the stairs, meaning that everyone was ready for dinner. “Hey, Pete, we’re about to eat, talk later?”

“Sure thing. BYE, H.G.” Before Myka could threaten Pete with bodily harm when they saw each other again, he hung up. Which was a smart move.

“What’s H.G.?” Tracy questioned, “and who was that?” She seemed more than passingly interested.

“H.G. is a nickname that your sister uses for me sometimes and _that_ was Pete.” Helena retrieved a pitcher of water from the refrigerator and sat down.

“Pete’s cute.” Tracy pulled the computer closer.

“Pete’s not cute, Pete’s Pete.” There was warning in Myka’s voice to her little sister as she took the computer away and put it off to the side. She didn’t need her developing any more crushes on Myka’s people, one was enough. Her parents cut off their conversation as they too entered the room and took seats.

“Why does Myka call you H.G.?” Tracy started to serve herself now that everyone was around the table and they all began passing dishes as Helena told them the story.

“Well, my parents gave me the names of two of my grandparents, my mother’s mother, Helena, and my father’s father, George.”

“Your parents named you _George_?” Tracy was aghast.

“No, they called me _Helena_. George is my middle name. Which makes my name…” Helena waited for Tracy to finish it for her.

“H.G. Wells. Huh. That’s funny I guess. Hey mom, guess why I’m never having kids?” As quickly as Tracy had become interested, she was ready to move on, but Warren interrupted her.

“Myka, you know that you were named after your grandfather too.”

Myka stopped eating, her spoon halfway to her mouth, “Wait, what?”

Warren nodded his head as he continued to eat, “Mhmm. Well, he spelled it M-I-C-A-H, but, same name.”

“Why is that a thing I’ve never heard anyone say before?”  

Warren clammed up again and her mother took over, “I’m sure we’ve mentioned that in the past, sweetie. Your father’s father’s name was Micah and…”

“No, no, Mom,” Myka was trying not to raise her voice, “I asked why everyone at school said I had a boy’s name when I was younger and when I did, I mostly just got yelled at.”

“Yeah, well, kid, I’m telling you now.” His tone was razor sharp, warning her to, “Let it go.”

Myka nodded her head and went back to her food, the rest of the Berings joining her.

But Helena wasn’t so easily deterred, “Mr. Bering, why don’t you tell us about him? What was he like?” Everyone stopped again and when Helena looked over at Myka, there was panic in her eyes. She scanned the room and found discomfort in Jean’s, surprise in Tracy’s, agitation in Warren’s. But Helena responded to all of them with coolness, a collected nonchalance. She could fill the silence on her own.

“My father wasn’t one to do things like everyone else, so I never much questioned my name. Charles’ middle name is Alvina, after our grandmother. I used to call him that to tease him, but the one time Papa heard me do it, he sat me down and told me that anyone could be called anything, there was no such thing as a girl name or a boy name. What do you think, Mr. Bering?” She looked at him and smiled, just making pleasant conversation.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat, “I suppose I’d agree with him.” He nodded his head and went back to eating again.

“I thought you might. Now, have any of you ever had Yorkshire pudding?”

\--------------------------

“How do you do that? How do you just… _handle_ him?”

Myka’s parents had agreed to clean up dinner since the girls had cooked, so they decided to retire to Myka’s room to read before bed. At least that’s what Myka told them all, including Helena, who picked up her paperback of short stories before Myka jumped wildly on to the bed, the quake effectively shutting the book.

"Oh good heavens, Myka, I don't handle your father, he's not a zoo animal." She was flipping through the book again, trying to find her page.

"What you just did out there was 'handling.'" Myka was frustrated and it was starting to show itself. She was frustrated that it had taken Helena being there to find out any of these things she should have known about her own family, more frustrated that her girlfriend was apparently the dad whisperer, and even further frustrated that she couldn't be like that as well.  

"It was not. I asked him a question and when he didn’t answer, I continued on my own. I didn't enable him."

" _Enable_ him?" Myka’s feelings were leaving frustrated far behind and ratcheting up to somewhere near incensed.

"I'm not blaming you, I'm just saying that you, all of you, allow him to treat you however he likes."

"Well, what do you expect us to do, Helena?! When I fight back, he freezes me out!"

"I know..." Helena didn't have a good answer. Because, when it came down to it, Helena wasn't his child, so their relationship would never be the same as that of him and Myka. And she saw no clear solution.

"And he talks with you. He talks with you and laughs with you..." Myka stood up and crossed to the window seat, feeling her resentment boil up, knowing that Helena was not the person to take her anger out on, but just wanting to be alone. As she pulled her knees up to her chin, she looked out to the mountains, thinking about how freeing it would be to just exist out there, away from needless conflict.

"Myka, the club that your father and I belong to is not one you want to join."

Helena was calm, but the words sat in the air, heavier than she had anticipated, creating a cloud of fog through which they had trouble seeing one another. Helena did her best to trek through it and settled on the edge of the window seat, resting her chin on Myka’s shoulder and looking out at the view with her.

Myka leaned her head in, nuzzling against Helena. Her words had grown as quiet as her spirit. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m on your side, Myka. Always. We’ll figure this out, my love.”

“Does life ever just get to be easy?”

“I don’t think that’s part of the deal, no.” Helena tilted her head to kiss Myka’s cheek and pulled her backwards so that she was resting between her legs, still looking out the window.

“Stay with me tonight? I think we’ve had enough time apart.” Myka asked, placing Helena’s knuckles in front of her lips, nipping at each lightly.

Helena squeezed and tucked her head into the girl’s neck, “Yes. Tonight, tomorrow night, every night forever and ever, whichever of those is longer.”

“Whichever of those is the longest.” Myka squeezed back, relaxing into the one thing that was always right and always good.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I take some liberties with characters.

“Helena! I’m serious! Come on!” Myka was sitting on the couch in the family room while the images of Steve, Pete, and Claudia moved around in their little boxes in front of her, mostly discussing the fact that Pete was in desperate need of a haircut and that Claudia would really like to go to bed as it was nearing 2 a.m. in Switzerland.

“You all don’t need me for whatever Pete wants to tell everyone! Go on without me.”

“God, could you two stop yelling across the house? Some of the civilized human beings are trying to read.”

“Tracy, you have a room. Also, you are reading a Buzzfeed article, not ‘War and Peace.’”

“It’s called a listicle.” Tracy rolled her eyes

Pete whistled for her attention, and to wake Claudia back up as she had started dozing off. “Look, Mykes, whatever, you can ask her about it later, Claude’s gonna climb through her screen and punch me if I don’t get to it, so here it is. I was looking at Craigslist for a place to live next year.” Myka smirked. Of course he hadn’t done this on time and now, when they were only a month out from returning, Pete thought it time to research his living situation. “And I found this awesome house. It used to be a bed and breakfast or something, but the owner wants to rent out the whole thing. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and if we split the cost between the five of us,” Pete put the back of his hand up to his cheek and spoke out of a slit on the side of his mouth, “or six, if Steve asks Liam to move in too,” both boys’ eyebrows shot up in unison as Pete continued, “then it would actually be cheaper than living in the dorms.”

Myka drew in a breath, preparing her response, and was quickly quelled by Pete standing and plunging his face toward the screen. “And before you ask your million questions Myka, I checked with my mom and if you haven’t signed your housing agreement yet, you can still change your ‘arrangements.’” After he concluded his air quotes, Pete clapped his hands together and stepped back, obviously eyeing all of his friends in their individual squares on his computer screen.

“So whadya think?”

Claudia’s face was flat and unamused, but she was the first to answer, “I think you totally didn’t need me to stay up until 2 a.m. to ask me that. I’m down, but I’m gonna need to see the place first. And I’m not sharing a bathroom with you.”

One fist pump from Pete.

“I…” Steve leaned in, but tilted his head away, seemingly thinking a little longer about the offer. “...  think that I’d be interested. But I, uh, don’t think I’m there with Liam yet. Us living together, I mean.”

Two fist pumps from Pete.

They all focused their attention on the one least likely to buy into Pete’s idea.

“Well, you’re right. I do have about a million questions. E-mail me some actual information and I’ll talk to Helena about it and… if our scholarships cover off-campus housing… then…” she grinned “Maybe.”

Three fist pumps and a yelp of excitement from Pete.

“I said _maybe_ , Pete.” He was way too excited for just a maybe.

“I know maybe means yes. Cause you guys _love_ me. Ha, HA!” He laughed into the screen and then began a victory dance of the running man variety.

“And with that, I’m out. Next time, we’re doing this on my schedule.” Claudia abruptly hung up on the others who were laughing at Pete dance.  

After they talked through a list of concerns Myka compiled in her head immediately after hearing Pete’s suggestion (including her insistence that it would not, _could not,_ turn into the off-campus party house), she began to wonder why Helena had still not come out of her room. She hung up after saying goodbye and skipped down the hall, on the balls of her feet, hoping to sneak up on the girl. When she opened the door at the end of the hallway, she saw a flurry of quick movement on the floor behind the guest bed and a rustling of paper before Helena stood, leaning on one foot and shoving her hands in her back pockets with a toss of her hair. Flustered was not a color usually rendered on Helena.

“Smooth. Very smooth.” Myka leaped onto the bed and leaned forward to examin the floor on the other side, but there was nothing there. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Well you were doing a lot of something for doing nothing.” Myka raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Helena was doing something, and, since it was Helena, chances were it was interesting. Especially if she didn’t want to tell Myka what it was. Mystery. Intrigue. It was all too much to resist.

Helena’s hand traveled up to her hair absentmindedly. Myka’s eyes flicked to the movement, and when Helena noticed her noticing her, the hand retreated. “Oh, do stop it.”

“You’re cute.”

“You’re annoying.”

Myka laughed and reached out, grabbing Helena by the waist and leaning back so that Helena was forced to tumble onto the bed after her, keeping her arms crossed in protest until she could no longer fight it, bracing her body for the fall. She landed on top of Myka, who was giving her the best lop-sided Myka grin she could muster, trying to charm the truth out of her. Giving her nose a quick peck, Helena rolled over, completing the full rotation and laying flat next to Myka, who perched herself up on her elbow to stare at the girl, brow stubbornly knit.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But I’ll figure it out. I won’t rest until I do.”

Helena’s eyes flashed with a sadness reminiscent of months ago, making Myka’s stomach lurch. She covered it quickly and turned toward Myka, “So, what, exactly, was Pete so anxious about?”

\---------------------------------------------

Oh no.

Oh God.

The situation now before Myka was one that she had completely forgotten to consider when she had agreed that, yes, of course, she and her girlfriend should spend the summer in the place where she grew up. The place where every other college student would be coming home to for the summer. She and her cavelier, hyper-intelligent, even-further-hyper-attractive, British girlfriend would, of course, never run into anyone with whom she went to school. Never. Of course not.

Except of course.

And since when were Sam Martino and Kurt Smoller friends?

And why were they in the bookstore?

The questions rushing to Myka’s mind left her standing, arms full of books, in the middle of the doorway to the back office.

“Hey Mr. B!” Sam greeted Warren with a familiarity that was probably overreaching for a boy who had only met him a handful of times. “What are the chances that you’ve got the new X-Men comic?”

Warren sighed heavily. “Don’t have comic books here, Sam.”

The boy knocked on the counter, “Ah, didn’t think so, but the closest comic book store is like twenty minutes away. Figured I’d try.” He turned back toward the front door of the shop.

“But I’ve got plenty of other books, you should look around.”

“Oh, no thanks, I’ve got a Kindle.” Warren and Myka wore matching scowls when they heard him say that.

“Myka?” Her name awoke her from her stupor and there was Kurt Smoller standing right there, having wandered off to look around on his own - huge, imposing frame, now blocking her view of the register. “I didn’t know you were home this summer.”

Myka could hear Helena pushing the chair she occupied back from the desk in the office. Myka generally loved Helena’s curious spirit, but at the moment, she wanted to dampen it out with a snuffer. She wondered if they had spent enough time together that telepathy would work. _Don't come in here, please. Just let then go happily on their way._

But before she could respond to Kurt, Helena was out of the office and past her. Well, it had been worth a shot.

“Hullo…” Helena’s eyes shot back and forth between the two boys that she was now standing in front of, mentally sizing them up. They seemed to be doing the same, but while she was completely at ease, they both seemed... less so. Myka had witnessed guys encounter Helena for the first time on many occasions. She was used to this scenario. There was always the slight widening of the eyes, the quick adjustment of the body position to appear more at ease which always actually gave away their lack of comfort. It was annoying, but she couldn’t blame them. Then again, she never expected it to be these guys - the two people most likely to be associated with her past “romantic interests,” though Myka was fairly certain she couldn’t actually call it that. “Are you some of Myka’s friends from high school? I was wondering where she was keeping you.”

“Uh…” Kurt put the book he had picked up back on the shelf haphazardly, inadvertently knocking over a couple others. When he didn’t go to pick them up, Myka did it herself, rolling her eyes and grumbling something to the effect of “Well, this is perfect.”

Kurt put out his hand to shake. “I’m Kurt. Uh, Myka,” he referenced back to where she had been standing, though she was on the floor now, cleaning up his mess, “used to tutor me in math.”

“And I’m Sam!” the sandy blonde boy trotted over. “Myka and I were friends in high school, yeah,” he grinned. Looking at him, Myka remembered why she had been so comfortable spending time with him. He was so unassuming, so pleasant to be around, so easy. She had liked that, for as long as it had lasted. She had needed that when she was still at home. A break from the tension that made stay in her body and mind during high school. He had grown bored of her disinterest in “doing” anything, as he had put it, not unlike most seventeen-year old boys, and so there hadn’t been much time together in the long run. And their dates had been in complete and total opposition to the flood of emotion Helena had, only months later, splayed upon her. The contrast was dazzling. Especially actually looking at the two standing next to one another.

And then there was Kurt. Oh Kurt. What had she been thinking? He was pretty to look at, she supposed. And he had always been kind to her, even when his friends were not. Maybe it was that he resembled those dashing men of her favorite Regency novels? Whatever it had been, Myka couldn’t recall her reasoning, which was just as well. She didn't want to have any flashbacks to high school. And yet, here they were. Standing in front of her.

She eventually met Helena’s eyes and the girl looked at her curiously. One look was enough to know what was happening in Myka’s mind.

“Yes, well, it’s nice to meet both of you. Myka and I met this year at college and I’m so glad you all shared her with the rest of the world. I must admit, she quickly dazzled me. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

The boys exchanged looks, complete with dopey smiles, and even Warren looked up from behind the counter at that. Myka Bering? Dazzling?

“Well, of course, she's smarter than anyone I’ve ever met, save myself, naturally. I’m quite certain that there isn’t a problem or puzzle she couldn’t master. And her understanding of the written word is staggering." Helena shot a look at Warren, who caught her eyes and then looked back down. “Brave. Infinitely more compassionate than most. That compassion has, on a number of occasions, saved my life, I think. Oh, I could go on, but it’s all to say I have honestly never met anyone quite as wondrous as Myka Bering.” Helena turned toward Warren once again and Myka followed, swiveling her head. He was standing taller than he had when the boys entered, a look of pride across his face.

By the time Myka looked back, Helena had pulled the boys closer and put her head close to theirs, whispering.

“And she is, by far, the greatest shag I’ve ever had.”

Myka wouldn’t have been surprised if there were suddenly six eyes lying on the floor for the way all three of the listeners were gaping at Helena, herself included. “HELENA!” Myka whisper-yelled. She shot a look back at her father to see if he had heard. He hadn’t. But that didn’t stop the pounding of the blood running through her veins in utter terror.

“I’m sorry, should I not have told them that? Oh, well,” she tilted her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth, her lips turning up, “I’ve said it now.”

There was some awkward laughter from the boys, though she tried not to look at them, for fear of the looks she’d see on their faces after they’d completely processed what Helena said.

“No, yeah, I mean, that’s cool.” was all Kurt had to say and Myka swore she heard Sam say, to himself, “That explains it!” She would have happily argued him on that idea, because, no, that did not explain it. She had in fact chosen not to pursue a physical relationship with him because she hadn’t been interested in one and that was not because he happened to be a boy... but it seemed an awkward time to further the conversation of sex. What with her father still only being fifteen. feet. away.

She had to get them out of there. She grabbed both of the boys around their biceps and turned them toward the door. “Well, anyway, I’m sure you’ve got lots to do today, what with tracking down this new X-Men, so, we’ll see you later, have a good day, bye!” and out they went.

“Well that wasn’t a very nice way to treat customers, Myka.” Helena was at the back of the room, leaning on the doorframe, smirking like a wildwoman.

“Do not even start, Helena.” She pointed her finger and followed it with the rest of her body, an arrow released from the tight string of its bow.

Her father cleared his throat and the arrow dropped in mid-flight. “That was, uh, that was nice, Helena. What you said.” He kept his focus down.

“All true, Mr. Bering. All so very true.” She winked at Myka and turned back into the office.

Myka sighed and shook her head. Helena Wells, always up to something.

\-------------------------------

Helena tiptoed into Myka’s room well after midnight, just to be safe, to find that the girl had already turned out her light. All that was visible was the giant mass of messy curls. Helena could tell she was awake though, because, though she often fell asleep on her side, she never stayed asleep on her side. Helena crawled in the bed behind her and hugged her close.

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment forever?”

No answer.

“Come on, everything I said was true, you can’t possibly fault me for it.”

No answer.

“Mykaaaaaa.” When she drew out her name in that way that Pete sometimes did when he was whining, she flopped over. “There we are.”

Myka still didn’t speak and stared at the ceiling. “Myka, I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed or angry or whatever it is you are right now. You looked…” she turned the girl’s head so she would actually look at her, “unhappy when they came in. I saw it. I saw that girl from the beginning of the year again. I liked that girl very, very much. But I love the girl I know now.” She stroked her face, taking in the whole plane of it. “And so I got protective and insolent and wanted to show those boys who _my_  Myka is.”

Myka finally broke her silence, “I was still a good person before I met you.”

“I know.”

“And you’ve made me better, but I could have grown on my own. I _would_ have grown on my own.”

“I know.”

“All right. Good. I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up. And,” she raised herself above Helena, “just so we’re clear, as I am the only ‘shag’ you’ve ever had, I’m also, aside from being the best ‘shag’ you’ve ever had, the worst ‘shag’ you’ve ever had. So it’s not actually a very high compliment.”

“I… Well, I suppose technically that’s true, but I’d rather emphasize the positive. And, frankly, I don’t think I’ve had the worst anything with you. It’s all been rather glorious, at least when it comes to the ‘us’ of it. We are quick studies in every sense of the word, aren’t we?” While she was talking, Helena had lifted her hands and both had fingertips inching under the waistband of Myka’s sleep shorts.

“I suppose I shouldn’t make a liar of you, right?” Myka finally smiled down at her, “Especially since everyone I went to high school with is going to know about us within the next two days.”

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Helena spoke the words against Myka’s neck before trailing her tongue along the hollow she found there.

“Never.”

\----------------------------

Myka heard people out front on the street beginning to raise their voices and, though she imagined that they might be her family, she was too engrossed in watching Professor Nielsen edit the abstract she had written up in real time, his cursor dashing to and fro, leaving her notes and questions and even sternly worded commendations. Was it nerdy to find the editing process thrilling? Yes. Did Myka love it anyway? Oh so much.

When the door to her room swung open and an overtly sobbing Tracy entered and rushed toward her, though, she pushed her computer back.

Her younger sister slumped over onto the bed, face down, and reached her hand out blindly to find Myka. Myka was so surprised that, initially she just stared at the searching palm. But before too long, rather than just taking her hand, she pulled the girl up and into her side. Her face was a pluvial storm of tears, her hair sticking to the wet places and hiding her eyes.

Myka didn’t say anything, she just let Tracy cry. She mostly didn’t know what to say - she had never seen Tracy like this. She had seen her cry, of course, but Tracy was the kind to storm out of the room and slam her door, not the kind to seek out the comfort of her older sister. Because Berings did not share pain, they suffered through it alone. It was one of the few things they all had in common.

“I’m…. never…” _hiccup,_  “driving…” _sob_ , “again.”

Myka pulled back to look the girl over for any injuries or physical damage, “Oh my God, Trace, are you all right?”

“He’s…” _wracking breath in,_  “gonna… kill me.”

Myka hugged her close again. “No, no he’s not, you’re going to be fine.” She laid a kiss to the top of her sister’s head and gently began to sway her body back and forth, a faint memory of doing the same thing when Tracy was only a baby, wanting to calm her when she cried. Her mother would always create a human barrier around the girls, just in case. Though Myka would never have been anything but scrupulous with the baby, because, even then, Myka was never anything but scrupulous with the things she cared about.

Helena appeared in the doorway and Myka mouthed the words “Find out what happened,” over her sister’s head, to which Helena nodded and disappeared again.

Myka began taking deep breaths, encouraging Tracy to join her and after many minutes of practicing the relaxation, Tracy’s brays turned into whimpers turned into normal exhalations.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Minutes went by again, neither of them moving, and the next time Tracy spoke, Myka heard the familiar tightness in her throat, “Why’d you go so far away, Myka?”

“I had to, Trace.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? Why didn’t you tell me about Helena?”

She stopped swaying. Why hadn’t she? It was a fair question. She guessed that she assumed that the information would be passed along. And, yes, maybe she had wanted to keep it to herself for a while. But that didn’t excuse never talking to Tracy about it at all. “I didn’t know you’d want to know.”

Tracy pulled away and sat up, looking like she was about to burst into tears again.

“That’s just stupid. Of course I’d want to know. I know we’re not super close, but that still doesn’t mean I wanted to find out that you were dating some girl from overhearing Mom and Dad arguing in the kitchen.” She stood up, starting to pace anxiously around the bed. “No one talks to me. No one talks to each other in this family." She stopped suddenly. "We live above a _bookstore,_  Myka. We’re surrounded by them. And the sole purpose of books is to communicate something. But we don’t communicate _anything._ ”

Myka scooted up, trying to reach for her sister, but Tracy backed away, “And you’ve got this person who already seems to know you better than any of us ever have and you’re always giving each other these looks like there’s some big secret that no one else gets to know and I'm really happy for you, I just…” she didn’t know how to put it into words. “It just sucks.”

She had no idea that these thoughts were plaguing her sister. She had always seemed unphased by the rest of them, confident by nature and not by sheer force of will like Myka had had to be. She was popular and smart and well-liked, how could she possibly feel this lost. Myka knew that she, of all people, should have realized they all had the capacity to feel alone. And she had left her alone in the pursuit of her own self-actualization. Myka had run away, not knowing that Tracy needed her. She had abandoned her.

Myka stood up and hugged her sister, who left her arms dangling at her sides. “So let’s be better. I promise I’ll be better. Ask me anything you want.”

Tracy pulled back, “I don’t want to ask you anything, I just want to be able to talk to you.”

“You can! You always can.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, start feeling like it. Because I’m here. You’re my kid sister. You’ve got me forever, okay?”

The tears still lined the edges of Tracy’s eyes, making them glisten against the light. Her cheeks started to quiver, but she wasn’t about to cry. “Promise?”

“I swear. On Dad’s first edition of _David Copperfield._ ”

“Well, then he would kill _you_.” Each let their laughs ease the tension and they stepped back from one another.

They heard the bell of the front door ring and, since the store was closed, there were only three people it could be. They were both hoping it was Helena.

“Tracy? Where are you?” Their father’s words got louder as he moved closer to the stairs.

Tracy’s eyes flicked to Myka who squeezed her hand, “I’m up here, Dad.”

They heard him bang up the stairs, more quickly than usual, and neither moved from their positions in the middle of Myka’s floor. When Warren appeared at the door, he looked each girl up and down, his eyes looked panicked, and they braced themselves for his verbal lashing.

“Are you okay?” He was out of breath.

They shared a look once more.  _Why isn't he yelling?_

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m so sorry about the car, I didn’t…”

He cut her off, crossing the space between the two of them, and putting his arms around his younger daughter. “Don’t worry about the car.”

“It was just hard to see with the rain and I was trying to be careful. I didn’t even know that that sign…”

He was more firm now, the growl edging back into his voice. “I said don’t worry about it. I’m just glad that you’re all right.”

“But I…”

“Trace!” Myka interrupted, shaking her head. There was no reason to make their dad angry if he wasn’t already. She should just accept the easy win in this case and move on. She walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Obviously Tracy could handle it from here. Helena was standing in the hallway, waiting.

“Is it bad?” Myka asked, nodding her head downstairs toward the street.

“The car? Not too bad. Drivable. Based on your sister’s hysterics, I assumed it was much worse.”

“I think that was about more than just the car.”

“Ah.” Helena understood.

Myka pressed her back firm against the wall and slid down. “Helena, I had no idea. I thought she was fine. She’s always seemed fine.”

Helena smiled tiredly, “Don’t we all until we don’t anymore?”

Myka returned the smile. “We do.” They each had their own little private aching miseries. Every one of them.

Including her dad. Her dad, who just showed them that he has the capacity for actually and actively caring for his children. Or Tracy, at least.  

“Myka? You know when you asked me what I was doing last week and I wouldn’t tell you?”

“I do.”

Helena took a deep breath, “I think I should probably show you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you all are still with me! We're oh so close! (I mean, not really, these kids are gonna be together forever, so hypothetically, I could keep writing about them for years. Ah. They're they best.)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Myka gets some very important insight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning - there is a very minor mention of physical violence.

"Helena... Helena, what is this?"

Myka turned to look at the girl and could tell that she was unsure if she had made the right decision. Helena handed her the sheaves of paper and promptly backed away.

"I think you should read it, Myka."

She looked down at the collection of pages. They numbered the hundreds, certainly. The thousands, possibly. Each piece of paper was in varying degrees of disrepair. It was obvious that a number of them had been crumpled up in frustration, only to have been forgiven for whatever misdeed they had committed and put back into the pile.

"I've organized it the best I could."

Myka ran her fingers over the script on the first page. It had been typed on a typewriter and each of the letters stood on edge, ready to escape.

_Blue Willow Sky_ by Warren Bering.

Notes littered even the first page in red pen, some precise, others scrawled in a fury.

"There are... a number of versions. He's written it over and over. I'm not sure, but I've tried to glean the order in which he wrote it, based on the quality."  Helena hesitated.

Myka leafed through the bundle. "Where did you find this?"

"They were all in the bottom drawer of that bureau. I was looking for a place to store some of my things and found..."

Myka's voice was laced with a building agitation. "How long ago?"

Helena was quick to clarify, crossing to sit next to her love, "Only a few weeks ago. I was curious at first. Then, as I read, I just wanted to make sure before I showed you."

"Make sure of what?" Myka had put the manuscript down and was watching it as if she were expecting it to explode from her touch alone. A time bomb delivered in the most innocent of packages, the written word.

"I just think you should read it."

Without thinking, Myka threw open the door and sped down the hall, covering the ground in seconds.

"Myka, what are you doing?" Helena grasped her by the arm, pulling her away from the stairs.

"I'm going to ask my mom if she knows what this is."

"Please, Myka," she was begging the girl - the emphatic tone, the grip on her arm, and just that flash of sadness in her eyes again, "just read it, at least some of it, before you say anything?"

Myka bit at her lower lip, considering her options. Yes. Yes of course, she was curious. Just look at Helena, at her reaction. What could he possibly have to say that would warrant that sadness in Helena's eyes?

It didn’t matter, because more that curious, she was scared. The idea of reading... _that..._ made her feel like she was invading a privacy that was very pointedly being kept from her.

But Helena had read it. And for some reason here to unknown to Myka, she needed her to read it too.

"I don't know if I should, it's a huge breach of privacy, Helena."

Helena just looked back at her, out of arguments, out of words.

Myka sighed, "Will you at least tell me what it's about?"

Helena's panic softened, "You, Myka, it's about you."

\--------------------

Myka didn't eat dinner with them that night. She also begged her mother to let her have the next day off, though she wouldn't elaborate on the why. Her dad was going to be at a convention for the day, so he couldn't protest and, "Mom, if you really need me, I'll only be upstairs."

When Helena made her midnight journey that was now their nightly ritual, Myka was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, having gotten through more of the manuscript than should have been possible.

"Darling, don't you think it's time to sleep?"

She shook her head. "I can't Helena, every answer I've ever asked for, _begged_ for, he put in here."

"I know, but it's a lot to try to process in one night."

Myka murmured her response, barely audible when in competition with the rain that had been slamming against the windows all night. "The only way I can stop being angry with him is to keep going."

"All right," Helena easily relented, "well, scoot over." Myka moved closer to the wall so that Helena could climb in. When the girl was settled back against the pillows, Myka put her head in Helena's lap. Helena ran her fingers through her hair like it was water instead of tumbleweed; somehow, she had long ago found the spots where she could achieve the impossible.

Myka read until the sound of the rain petered off.  She read until Helena's fingers slowed to a Palestrinian pace and stilled completely. She read until the words blurred into one mass, trying to make sense of the non-linear images and sounds. She read, not making sense of the words, until she was yanked into slumber, lacking the drive to fight anymore.   

\----------------------

Well, the whole website was a bloody mess and was going to have to be completely overhauled, that was all. She didn't understand how Mr. Bering had run a business for so long with such gross underutilization of the internet. She could do it on her own, but it would be quicker to call Claudia and then she could get back to the margins Dr. Frederic sent yesterday...

"Helena?"

Mrs. Bering was standing in the doorway - presumably this was not the first time she had said her name. This was always happening with her _and_ Myka, getting caught up in their thoughts - the product of thinking too much and too loudly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She smiled at Helena. She smiled a lot. A looking-glass of a life she did not lead. Even though she saw through it, Helena returned the smile.

"What's up?"

Jean nodded her head upwards, "What is it that Myka's doing up there?"

…

_Let’s see… weighing the options… If I tell her the truth, she’s liable to storm up there and take the book away before Myka is finished. However, if I lie, she’ll probably know that’s what I’m doing._

Helena was a good liar.

Jean was a mother.

Maybe a bent truth then.

"She had some reading to catch up on."

Jean's face conceded nothing. "Did she at least get some sleep last night?"

"I couldn't say."

Helena _was_ a good liar.

But Jean was still a mother.

"Helena..."

Helena looked back at her screen, carefully nonchalant. "She was asleep when I woke up at least."

"Dear, you don't have to be so guarded, I don't have a problem with it. Though I _do_ have a problem with you lying about it."

Even through her chastisement, Jean’s face expressed an openness that Helena didn't see in many - one she hadn't seen from her own mother since before her dad's accident. It was an easiness that Pete had, and Myka too, when she wasn't worrying over something. A desire to love unceasingly. It felt odd to have it turned on her anymore, save from Myka, and even that had taken time.

"I'm sorry." Helena detested being uncomfortable.

Jean shook her hands in front of her, "No, no, I didn't say that so you would apologize..." And now Jean was uncomfortable. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I was just trying to say… I like what I see in her when she's with you."

Her smile waned, ever so slightly and she took a moment to think about how to proceed, leaving Helena in the awkward position of wondering whether to respond or to wait for whatever it was Mrs. Bering wanted to share. "She was... a very focused child. Determined. But not very happy." Jean let the smile again replace the concern that had crossed her complexion, like the habit that Helena was sure it had become. "She seems happy now.” She laughed nervously and shook her head, “Well, she doesn't talk to me about it, so I can only guess."

"This seems to be a common theme around here. Talking, not talking. Communicating, not communicating." Helena chuckled, hoping the cloud of awkwardness would dissipate.

"A motif." Mrs. Bering added with a nod and a true grin, putting an end to the topic.

At least Mrs. Bering could make fun of the family’s often unnecessary confluence of feeling and intellect that Helena saw them get caught up in nearly every day. They were a heady bunch, that was for certain. Over the passing months, dinner was the one place they all met each evening and Helena had studied their behavior with rapt attention. There were times when they would all share some inside joke or challenge one another with ideas that made reference to books.  Sometimes books so obscure that even Helena herself hadn’t read them, which initially alarmed her, but she kept up just fine, generally preferring to stay out of the middle of the action and only contributing when she was needed.

Her fascination with their customs remained, though -  the four of them passive-aggressively arguing through the words of fictional characters and then pretending they hadn’t been arguing at all. And when those conversations were over, Myka and Warren each going back to eating, Warren with his attention fixed squarely on his food and Myka darting her eyes between her meal and Helena. Neither felt the need to contribute further. If they were not speaking through someone else’s words, they were not speaking. At least not to one another. If it weren’t for Tracy, a deipnosophist who could probably talk at a wall and still come up with something inventive to say, they’d likely eat in mostly-comfortable silence.

Helena had wondered more than once if she could turn her observations of the Berings into actual research. There _was_ a clinical psychology component to her human cognition class in the fall… Would that be stepping over the line? Studying the behavior and traits of your significant other and her family and then writing about it with the hope that the research was good enough to publish?

Yes, that sounded like it was over the line. But they were so much more interesting than what remained of Helena’s family.

She really should call them. Avoiding them hadn’t made her stop thinking about everything, though she had gotten good at pretending it did. She hadn’t checked on her mother in a couple of weeks, but Charles sent updates via e-mail so Helena knew she was all right…

“Helena?”

She had stopped paying attention again.

"Anyway,” Jean didn’t bother wasting time, now that she had the girl’s attention again. “You don't have to keep secrets from me. I'm not here to judge you."

This all seemed to be getting to a point of some sort... Helena cocked her head to the side, quizzically, "I’m sorry, what are we talking about exactly?"

A pause. "Helena... what is it that Myka's doing up there?"

\--------------------------

_I hope you didn't stay up too late. I’ll check on you at lunchtime if you haven’t come out of your cave yet. H.G._

The post-it was adhesed to the top of the manuscript, which had been moved to the desk while Myka slept. She couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she did remember where she left off in her father’s writing. She was into the fourth version of the book, the one that finally referenced her sister Tracy’s existence. It was jarring to read a story that was obviously about her family without it making mention of her younger sister at all. Myka wasn’t sure why he had foregone Tracy’s presence the first three times through. Did he start writing it before she was even born and subsequently just decided she wasn’t important or too difficult to fit into the _narrative_? That seemed like a pretty jerky thing to do. But, he’d done worse. And, to be fair, they probably weren’t ever supposed to find this.

She picked up a small packet once again and attempted to dive back into the story. Yes, the story. She was choosing to see this as a tale, completely fabricated, and not a reflection of her actual life.

Which was, well... hard.

When her dad reflected on his life as a young man, before she had been born, Myka could see this boy, this _Warner_ , as a character. He could have tried a little harder on the name, but beside that, he was just one of a long line of fictional young men searching for a place in the world. Holden Caulfield, Pip, and _Warner_.  

It was when he wrote about his eldest daughter, the beginning and the end of his story, that she wasn’t capable of an outside point-of-view. She could remember living it. She could remember the neighbors, too chipper, the homework, too easy, the childhood tears, too hot, the hugs from her father, too cold. And all of it felt too, too real.

She reached a particular scene for the second time and stopped herself, dropping her head and making a gutteral sound into her chest, rattling her own ribs. It was an encounter that she remembered so vividly from her own life, an encounter that she still felt in her limbs. She began flipping through the last version she had read, trying to find the former telling of the scene. _Why did he write about this? Why would he do this?_ She couldn’t help asking herself the question.

Myka was sixteen and he was angrier at her than usual. Over nothing. It was always over nothing. And he had raised his hand. Simple as that. It was the one and only time he had ever done it. She raised her own in response and grabbed his arm, not sure if he actually intended to hit her or if he was just trying to scare her. She had done it out of fear, but even moreso out of instinct.

By sixteen, she was almost as tall as him and, while he could still overpower her, she could hold her own, arms newly strong from fencing lessons and training for the track team. She remembered looking into his eyes, seeing shock and embarrassment. She couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment over losing control or over not having clear dominance anymore. He yanked his arm back and stormed out of the room.

Neither of them had mentioned it a single time since.

The moment was a startling example of the fact that she was only going to get older and smarter and more independant. Less controllable. Less of a shadow that he could kick around when he felt like it.

Those weren’t things Myka felt. She had only felt surprise and fear. But her father certainly had felt them, based on his writing.

Here it was, in his own words. Myka held the scenes next to one another. The second version played out longer, more of a self-flagellation, more pleads for forgiveness and mea culpas. In the first, he offered excuses. In the second, just his own regrets.

Myka let go of the pages and they dropped with a thud to the bedspread. Helena hadn’t thought this through, showing this to her. What was she supposed to do with it? Was she supposed to pity him? Pity that he regretted the way he treated her? Pity herself for having lost so many years with him?

_No, no, start over Myka. Who hates pity more than anyone you know? Helena. Helena does. It’s not about pity… think it through._

_Knock, knock, knock._

She didn’t want to take a break, but maybe Helena was keeping good on checking on her.

“Come in,” she continued to speak without looking up. “Helena, how much of this did you think was true and how much did you think was storytelling?”

“Sorry to disappoint.” the softer, much more American, voice responded.

Myka shifted her eyes sideways as she tried to pull a blanket up over the manuscript, now in complete disarray. “Oh, hi, Mom. Do you need me downstairs?”

She saw her mom visibly deflate at the fake enthusiasm in her voice. She walked, shoulders lowered, over to the bed and lightly pulled the blanket back. Myka felt her nails start to dig into her palm and she bit at her lower lip. She couldn’t let her energy burst out, she had to control the rush of feeling that she needed to explain herself and to yell, to just finally yell at her mom and to yell at this house and to yell at this life that refused to give an inch.

“What do you think so far?”

Myka’s body reacted first. Her fists unclenched, the tightness relaxed, her body no longer a rubber band being pulled back and aimed for release. Then her brain caught up.

“Wait, what do you mean? How did… ? … Helena.”

Her mother sat on the edge of the bed, “To be fair, I asked, and I wasn’t taking her avoidance of the question as an answer. Now,” she scooted back so she was a little more comfortable, pulling her right leg up onto the bed, almost like they were just two young friends gossiping over this note some boy in their class had written, “what do you think of it?”

Myka remained silent, so her mother continued.

“I’m still not sure he’s captured the essence of you girls. There’s a lot more lightness in the two of you than he seems to know how to write. He’s still trying though.”

Myka perked up, “Wait, he’s… he’s still writing?”

“He hadn’t been for a while. Since you left. The night you came home, though? The night he talked about his father?” Myka nodded her head at the presumed question of whether or not she remembered, “He started up again. These are old versions. He started writing it the first time when you were a baby. I was sick for a while after you were born, and you were so collicky, so he’d stay up with you all night and almost every morning, he’d tell me new things he thought about writing, or share the notes he’d scribbled while holding you.” Her eyes were shining, tears not completely formed.

“So… what? Does that make me his _muse_ or something?” Myka kind of laughed at the thought, but the laugh cracked against a solid weight that landed in her chest.

“I suppose it does.” She took Myka’s hand, “He loves you very much, you know.”

“He loves the idea of me, but not _me_.”

Jean squeezed her daughter’s hand. She knew where Myka’s hurt feelings came from. She knew it more acutely than anyone else. “Sometimes you just have to love people through their flaws, sweetie.”

She left Myka to finish reading. Which Myka did. Helena came in to check on her only once, leaving a sandwich and some apple slices, a tender kiss on her lips and a whispered “I love you.” She was otherwise undisturbed.

When she finished the very final page of what Helena had collected, she was left with her father’s parting words, new to this version. A visceral image of how he must see himself, unashamedly honest.

_“I built a shield, out of skin and bones and I used my blood to make it stick. I tied ligaments around it to hold it firm. And when I looked down, I had nothing else left.”_

She gathered the pages neatly and she finally let herself cry.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is forward progression!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short and it's been so long since I've posted, all. Life and such. I wanted to add to this, but since I've been sitting on it a while and I don't know when I'll have time to write more, I wanted to put something into the world!

When Myka descended from her so-called cave, she found Helena behind the register, closing down for the day. The girl looked up at the creak of the old, wooden stairs and saw Myka standing halfway between the two levels. She hadn’t let herself calm down completely before seeking out the comfort of Helena’s warmth. But when Helena hesitated at the tears that still rimmed her girlfriend’s eyes, Myka found that she wanted to be the one to comfort instead. She rushed the rest of the way down the stairs and enveloped Helena in a tight squeeze, “Thank you for showing me.”

Helena didn’t say anything back right away, she just returned the hug, running her fingers across Myka’s shoulderblades as she let go of the embrace. She grazed her fingers across the lineament of Myka’s face, tactilely taking in the dampness of her cheek, the subtle swollenness under her eyes, the all-too-fresh wounds of parental pain.

“It wasn’t meant to upset you.”

Myka nodded her head, taking Helena’s hands in her own. She knew what Helena meant. Especially because “upset” wasn’t the word to describe what she was feeling and they both knew that as well. Myka was simultaneously over and under stimulated - abuzz with new information and overwhelmed at the enormity of it. She wanted to talk through everything she had read right this very second. But she also never wanted to talk about it ever again. Ever.

Overwhelming joy at the thought that, yes, maybe she and her father _could_ have a relationship.

Crippling fear that they would never learn how to express themselves to one another.

But now there was a crack. Helena and Jean had each taken a chisel to the stone wall that Myka had erected between herself and Warren. Or maybe Warren had erected it. Who could really say at this point, and who really cared.

Because maybe a crack was all they needed.

“Myka, sometimes I regret leaving him when I did. Now that I know there was nothing I could do...” Helena dropped her gaze and began to pick at the hem of Myka’s sweater, her bravado failing her. “Even when he was mean and not himself, I would still have been able to hear his voice. I would still have been able to share space with him….” She laid the sweater flat against Myka’s hip and rested her hand there, looking back up, “I know he’s not everything you want him to be, but he’s what you have. It will never excuse the way he’s made you feel, and I doubt it will make you stop wishing he was more, God knows I never did, but it’s something.”

Myka should have expected that Helena would swoop in and give voice to her feelings. She always knew. She grinned the tiniest of grins, “Yeah, it is.”   

Jean and Tracy could be heard in the kitchen prepping for dinner and Myka and Helena were just about to join them upstairs, after Myka had given herself a little while longer to erase the clues that she had been crying of course, when they heard Warren walk in the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

He nodded in their direction, giving them a growled, “Hello, girls,” before shouting up the stairs “Jean, I left the car with Marty at the garage, he said he’d let me know how much it’ll cost!” Jean threw an “All right, dear,” down the stairs, but he moved into the office before he heard it. He set a number of bags down on the desk when Myka walked up behind him, having shoo-ed Helena upstairs.

“Hey Dad? Do you think before we go back to school, we could take Helena to Garden of the Gods?”

He didn’t look up. “Not on a weekend, but the two of you can have a day off sometime next week when it’s not busy.”

“No, Dad, I meant the whole family. It’s been a really long time since we’ve gone. I want to go together.”

Warren walked past her toward the stairs, a sharp guffaw accompanying him as he went, “Who do you expect to run this place?”

She stayed apace with him, “Stacey, who used to work with me here on Saturdays, do you remember her? She’s home visiting her parents for a few weeks. She could cover it. We don’t have to spend the whole day there and I could close up for you. And if Stacey can’t do it, Harry ran the store when you took me to school last fall, and he’s never doing anything else.” Harry was one of their too-chipper next-door neighbors and Warren winced when she mentioned him.

“What are you two talking about?” Jean asked pleasantly as they entered the kitchen and she passed dishes to Helena to set the table.

“I want to take a family trip to Garden of the Gods before Helena and I leave for school.”

“Oh! I think that sounds lovely!” Jean locked eyes with Myka, who was silently thanking her mother for her enduring patience.

“I told Dad that Stacey or Harry could run the store for the day and I would close up if he wanted me to.”

Even Tracy seemed excited by the idea. “Yeah! Oh my gosh, Myka, do remember that time we went there and you _insisted_ on bringing way too many books in your backpack and then halfway through the day you just collapsed because you couldn’t carry them anymore?”

“I had books, you had that purple stuffed bear, same difference.” She playfully swatted at Tracy’s arm and they grinned at one another.

“No, no,” Warren insisted, “I don’t want to leave the store with someone else, you all can go without me, it’s fine.” Warren sat down at his seat at the table.

“Please…” Myka’s voice was strained. He had to know that she wanted to spend time with _him_. She wanted him to finally be a dad. And she wanted to finally be a daughter. “Please, Dad.”

He began to protest further “Now, listen….” Warren trailed off when he finally looked at her.

_Why does she have to have his eyes? Why do I have to look at her and see my father every time I do? When did it happen? She wasn’t born with that sunburst around her pupils… Why don’t I know this? Why don't I know when it changed?_

_... Everyone’s staring at you, God dammit Warren, say something._

“You ask Stacey if she’s free. If she’s not, you can ask Harry.” His voice dripped with annoyance just saying the name, “But if they’re not available, I have to stay here, got it?”

Myka nodded her head in affirmation, “Got it. Oh!” She remembered something, and cheerfully continued, “While I’m at it, I’ll see if Harry can run the shop when you guys take us back to school.”

Warren pushed his chair back, “Wait, wait, wait, no. That was a one-time thing. We were trying to get you settled in. No,” he shook his head, “no, we’re not driving across the country again.”

Myka shrugged, “Well, okay, Dad. If you want Helena and me driving an enormous U-Haul full of furniture across the country by ourselves because we have to furnish our new place, then oooookay.”

Warren and Jean both suddenly looked very nervous. One car accident this summer was enough.

Myka used their hesitance as silent consent (even though she knew it wasn’t.) “Hey Trace? Wanna visit Cleveland?”

“Now, Myka…” It was her mother this time, trying to apply brakes to a vehicle over which she had no control.

“I don’t even know what’s IN Cleveland, but if it means I don’t have to work at the country club, GOD YES.”

“The Cleveland Museum of Art is lovely, we’ll have to take you,” Even though Helena’s words were aimed at Tracy, her smirk was entirely for Myka.

They offered a few other suggestions of what they could do in the city and Tracy suggested that she set up a meeting with a counselor at Case since she’d be applying to school this year anyway.

“I have to have interviews scheduled for Mr. Brady’s college prep class, anyway.”

With all of the chatter, Jean and Warren couldn’t get a word in.

“Jeannie?” She looked over at her husband whose shoulders and newly-noticeable jowls sagged as one. “I’ve lost this one, haven’t I?”

“I believe you have, dear.”

\---------------------------------------------------

Much to the entire Bering family’s chagrin, Stacey had decided to return to school early, so they were stuck with Harry running the shop during their day-trip.

Myka was sure she’d be beyond agitated if Harry had been directing his attention to her before they left. But he wasn’t. And because she and Helena were only passing through the storefront on the way to drop things into the van, she actually found Harry’s demeanor hilarious.

He was leaning too closely to her father, even though he was familiar with the instructions he was being given, interrupting for clarifications between every sentence. Myka observed her father scooting over infinitesimally as he spoke in clutched, direct sentences, and yet, Harry continued to be right on top of him. And he continued to try to have a conversation with the unwilling participant next to him. When Harry spoke, right into Warren’s ear, of course, Myka could hear him all the way out front.

“No worries, Warren. I won’t burn down the bookstore! I’ll just make sure to leave the stove on and give matches to all of the kids who come in.” He followed up his joke with peals of laughter that went on for an excruciatingly long time. Not that Myka wasn’t laughing right along with him from the safety of the van.

“I would assume that Harry is Henry in the book _,_ yes?” Helena asked as they settled into the back seat.

“How could you possibly tell?” She laughed, “He really should work on those character names.”

Helena snorted.

“Are you going to tell him that we read it?” Helena asked.

Myka considered it as she checked to make sure the veggie bags she had packed actually made it into the cooler.  

“I don’t know. Not today. And it’s not like my mom doesn’t already know...” Myka ‘accidentally’ swiped the side of Helena’s arm with the cooler when she placed it in the trunk behind them.

“Ouch!” Helena started to massage the place Myka had hit.

“Oh, please. A - Like that hurt, B - like you didn’t deserve it.” Though this was completely true, Myka still pulled Helena’s hands back and kissed her arm. “There. All better.”

“Your mother is a very perceptive woman, Myka! And if she hadn’t just finished telling me that she knew that I was sneaking into your room every night, then maybe I could have…”

“What?! Does my dad know?!” Myka looked like she was seconds away from playing possum in the back seat of her parents’ minivan.

“I very much doubt it. But Myka, she was fine. Your mother was fine.” Helena’s smile was doing a very good job of distracting Myka from her earlier indiscretion.

“Really? Are you sure that’s what she meant? Because if she knew, I think she’d have said something or made me share Tracy’s room or something equally unfortunate.”

“Yes, well,” Helena cupped her hand around Myka’s neck, her thumb grazing against her cheek, “Sometimes people can surprise you.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I finish this story, except for an eventual epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon any typos, it is literally 4 in the morning.

“Mom, did you… are these…?” Myka rifled through the folder her mom had asked her to retrieve. “Did you print out and LAMINATE maps?” she yelled down the hall to her parents’ closed door.

Helena set an English muffin in front of Myka, scanning the previously-organized stack of directions. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she had caught Myka doing the same thing for which she was currently chastising her mother. Myka’s head snapped up as she heard Helena chuckle who, in turn, quickly scurried off, downstairs to the office. Myka knew full-well to what Helena’s chuckle was referring. And Helena knew that Myka knew.

“You do realize that all of our phones have GPS, Mom? And even if they all mysteriously died or stopped working, you also have GPS in the van. You do realize this?”

Tracy's door swung open as she ran down the hall and reached for the handle of her parents' room, but Mrs. Bering beat her to it and stuck her head out of the door. “Myka, I’ve been successfully traveling longer than you’ve been alive. Let an old woman do what an old woman wants to do.”

Tracy snuck past her mother and into the master bathroom, “Mom, do you have an extra pair of tweezers? I can’t find mine.”

“This is why I asked you to pack _before_ the day we were leaving. Myka, have you seen your sister’s tweezers?”

“I don’t know, but maybe she should have packed _before_ the day that we were leaving.”  

“Oh my God, I GET IT.” Tracy attempted to stomp back to her room, obviously not finding solidarity in either of them, but Myka charged forward and wrapped her arms around her sister from behind before she could reach her door. Tracy struggled, but it was too late. She was trapped.

"Myka! Get off!"

"Nope. This is what you get. And your tweezers are on the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet."

Tracy pushed her arms out and twisted against Myka’s weight, uselessly trying to escape the clutches of a determined older sister.

"Girls! One of you come down here and finish putting your things in the car. I'm not your God forsaken valet!"

Warren's voice put an end to the silliness as Myka lightly hip-checked Tracy toward her bedroom door and turned toward the stairs.

"Yeah Myka, he's not your valET." Tracy teased, over-exaggerating the British pronunciation.

Myka skipped down the stairs, catching Helena’s silhouette next to the cabinet of first editions. "My dad needs to stop watching 'Downton Abbey.' before he starts thinking we need to treat him like Lord Grantham." She went to grab Helena's hand and pull her toward their pile of remaining bags, but Helena refused to move away.. When Myka looked back over her shoulder, she found a crestfallen face.

"Did the 'Fahrenheit 451' sell?" Helena didn't look up.

"Oh yeah, there's a museum opening in Waukegan and they bought it."

"Oh. That's good." Helena's tone definitely didn't agree with her words.

"Hey." Myka shook Helena's arm so she'd look up. "What's going on?"

They stood for a minute, not saying anything, only looking. Myka was willing to wait.

"Would it be strange..."  Helena stopped again. "Would it be strange if I said that I'm not ready to leave?"

Myka's chest fluttered and her lips twitched up.

"A little." she admitted.

"Things have been good the past few weeks."

Myka nodded, "They've been _better_..."

"Myka. They've been _good_."

Helena wanted Myka to admit something she wasn't ready for. She wasn't ready to accept that the time spent in the bookstore without anyone sniping at one another could be the norm. She wasn’t ready to agree that the contentious arguments that used to end in tears had turned into genuine conversations wherein they listened to one another. She didn't expect any of the behavior to continue. It was an anomaly. A tiny asterisk on the timeline of their lives. Myka had fought for these past few weeks, but she knew as soon as she stopped, that asterisk would be erased.

"Don't you miss Pete? And Steve and Claudia?"

Helena opened her mouth to protest.

"And your research! You'll be there for trials!”

The two of them had each been working on notes for their scholarly projects more hastily in preparation for being back at school. Myka knew that Helena couldn’t and wouldn’t deny that she missed productivity - she wanted to do more than urge customers to read lesser-well-known books while they hounded her for copies of whatever was at the top of the New York Times Bestseller list that week.  

“That may be true, but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss this place. Won’t miss the books. Or Tracy. Or your mum and dad…”

Myka turned her attention to their remaining boxes, without further debate or acknowledgment of the topic of her father.

“Let’s get these in the truck. We have to make it Des Moines by tonight and, I know you’ve never driven across Nebraska, but let me warn you, it’s something akin to experiencing The Divine Comedy first-hand.”  
  
Helena relented as Myka stacked a pair of cubes into her open arms. After all, they’d have two very long days in a van to talk about it.  “So… would that make Ohio paradise?”

“The metaphor’s a bit faulty, but I stand by it.”   
  
\--------------------------

“MYYYYYYYKES.”

Ear-splitting atonal cacophany coming from a single voice. How, _how_ did Pete Lattimer have the pipes to make that sort of noise?

As soon as the U-Haul and van pulled up in front of this gorgeous, Victorian home, complete with a glassed-in porch perfect for all studying needs, Pete was out the front door hollering like he’d not seen Myka in years. He ran to the van and straight lifted her out of her seat into a hug like only Pete Lattimer could give. And he saved one for H.G. as well. And Tracy. And Jean. And he even tried Warren, but Myka’s dad was having none of it and Pete sort of awkwardly thrust his person into the older gentleman. Claudia didn’t even bother to stifle her guffaw.

“God, I’m glad you guys are here. What’s going in first?!”

“I am. I am going in first because we haven’t stopped this caravan since west of Chicago and you just squeezed me way more tightly than you should have.” Myka ran toward the porch and as soon as she stepped in the front door, she felt at home. There was the smell of grilled cheese - the fat, sickly sweet aroma that filled a whole space. A Cleveland Indians game was playing on a television already set up in the living room. A bookcase in the room had a post-it clinging to a shelf that read “For Myka and H.G. ONLY” in Pete’s scrawl. She shook her head and chuckled to herself - Pete was never giving that nickname up again, she was just going to have to get used to it. Jane and Steve were discussing where to put one of his bigger pieces of furniture and each face glowed with excitement when they saw their girl come bounding in. It was right, it was all just so _right_.

Myka would have liked to stop to think about how impossibly glorious the change in her life in the last year had been - how a year ago today she had been terrified, beaten-down, unsure of herself, defensive to the point of being callous to the person she would come to love more than anyone else in the world. And now here today it was all just.... 

But she really had to pee.

When she came out of the bathroom, she heard the voices of her family members arguing and her stomach hitched. Oh no, had she thought all of those things moments too soon? She followed them to a room down the hallway and stopped in the doorframe of what she guessed was her bedroom. Inside she found her father and her sister moving around the box spring to her bed. Jean thought it should go next to the window, but Helena argued that the eastern sun would do ghastly things to her sleeping schedule.

“Oh for the love of Pete, would one of you just make a decision.”

“Someone call me?” Pete smiled wide, joking around with Warren and skirted past Myka’s right shoulder with two bags on his arm and a stack of books in his hands.

Myka finally stepped into the room. “Split the difference on the bed? If you move it a foot or so back, the morning light shouldn’t hit us too early.” Her father immediately moved to the spot she was pointing to and dropped it. “And that’s why you’re my favorite,” he said as he walked out of the room. Tracy followed after him and muttered to Myka “There’s only two of us, so it’s not really a compliment,” as she jabbed a playful elbow into Myka’s side.

Yeah, it was all just so right.

\----------------

The U-Haul and van were empty, save the Berings travel bags. They were about to head to the hotel - they were going to stay a couple of nights so that Tracy could tour the school and they could feel like they actually got a little time to rest before heading back.

Helena, Jean, and Tracy were inside visiting with Pete’s mom and getting a lay of the land for the year. And Warren and Myka were alone. And for the first time, Myka was ready to take that chisel from her mom and Helena and tear down the whole damn wall that stood between her and her father. She was ready even if it meant having to build it up again piece by piece.

Her mom said to her once it was the trying that mattered. And so she would.

“Thanks… thank you for everything, Dad.”

He brushed her off, not making eye contact, “Ah, it was nothing. It was, well, it was nice to be with you girls for a while.”

She smiled while he kept looking off into the distance. At what, she couldn’t glean, it was just college students for miles around. He started to clear his throat, maybe he was going to continue, but she was worried he’d change the subject, so she spoke up again -

“I… I….” she started to rethink this whole plan, what it if ruined everything? Her voice faltered, but she muscled on. “You’re a really talented writer, Dad.”

That got his attention. He looked right at her, right in those sunburst eyes. Just like his father’s.

“Please don’t be upset that I read your manuscript, but I started it and, gosh, Dad, it was really good.” _No stopping now, no stopping now Bering, you get one shot at this_. “I just wanted you to know how proud I was of you. Reading it. I was proud. And I hope that you’ll share it with others some day.”

She was done and all she could wait for was him to say something. He cleared his throat again and looked down.

“I… uh, I wanted to... “ he stopped talking when his voice quivered. If it had been anyone but her father, Myka probably would have reached out, but that was never going to be him.

He took something out of his pocket and Myka’s eyes flashed down. She saw that there were two checks in his hand. He coughed and looked back up.

“I wanted to give you and Helena these. For this summer.” He handed her the checks. She was confused and her face clearly displayed that because he continued.

“What I owe you for your work. Thank you. To both of you.”

Myka started to protest, “But Dad, we worked for you so we could repay…” He was more firm in his reply.

“And you did. You did repay me. More than you can know.”

He stepped forward and started to lean into a hug, faltering, but Myka more than made up for it in her enthusiastic response. She had, after all, recently learned from the best of them. And her hug probably would have put Pete Lattimer to shame. She wouldn’t tell him that though, he’d make sure they had an Annual Hug Championship if he ever thought his title was in contention.

But Myka would have won. Today at least, she _did_ win.

\-----------------------

“Well that was lovely,” Helena snaked her arm around Myka’s back and pulled her close after they waved the Berings off for their journey back to Colorado. Myka nodded her head and they turned around in tandem to head back to the front door as one in silence.

They had a lot to think about - classes started tomorrow, Dr. Frederick and Professor Nielsen had both already sent them countless e-mails and, in some cases even actual pieces of physical mail, about what’s expected of them this year. But they were both so thrilled to begin. 

They passed the others in the living room on the way to their room.

“Mykes, H.G. we’re gonna watch ALLLL of the Insidious movies, just so we’re sure we don’t sleep tonight. You in?”

Claudia threw a full handful of popcorn at his face “Pete, do you think if you’d spent all summer with your parents and finally had some alone time with your girlfriend you’d hang out with us and watch scary movies?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He bent his face forward and ate some of the kernels of popcorn that had landed in the crevices of his t-shirt.

“Bye Pete.” Myka waved at him gingerly and started to take the stairs two by two, pulling Helena behind her. She shut the bedroom door behind them and planted Helena firmly against it. Helena had a grin spread across her face, clearly anticipating Myka’s next move, but happy to wait as long as she needed to.

“Can you believe it’s been a year?” Myka started. “It’s been a year since every strange quirk in the universe came together to make us roommates. And now we’re here. After…. all of it.” The all of it still weighed with them some days. The emotional and physical exhaustion that had come with their first real years of adulthood. Helena squeezed Myka’s arms. It was a tacit acknowledgment of just what “all of it” meant and she smiled at Myka. Her smile would probably never be quite as bright, her eyes never as sharply dazzling as the first time Myka had been struck by them, but there was a beauty in the way her pain had shaped them all the same. And Myka loved every tiny little difference she saw in Helena. There would be more to come over the years and she’d learn to love the new ways that Helena would look and act and feel and share and change and become. And Helena would do the same for her. They would even learn to love the moments when they fell out of love for a littie while. Because they would always come back from it with new markers, new things to fall in love with all over again. 

Eventually Helena stopped waiting for Myka to kiss her and did the deed herself, cupping Myka’s face gently into her hands, letting her lips press firmly then ease out slowly and finish with a kiss to Myka’s nose, as she was wont to do.   

“It wasn’t strange quirks, darling. It was Providence.”

Myka’s eyes were still closed when the lopsided grin spread across her face.

“Providence. Right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow guys. 
> 
> 1\. I AM THE WORST.  
> 2\. BUT I FINISHED IT (except for that killer epilogue that I promise will come some day in our lives.)  
> 3\. I stopped writing because my life changed tenfold - the change took me across the country, to a completely new experience with new people and a very, very different schedule. There are parts of this that I still wanted to tell, but frankly, it weighed on me on a regular basis that I had never finished this and I just HAD to.  
> 4\. Thank you so much for reading this story. I started it at a time in my life where I, frankly, really needed it, really needed W13, and really needed this fandom. And you guys were there. So kudos to YOU, I say.  
> 5\. All right, all right, I'm going to bed.


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